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THE 

Limitations of Life 



AXD OTHER SERMONS 



¥1. M. TAYLOK, D.D. 

PASTOR OP THE BROADWAY TABERNACLE, NEW YORK CITY 



WITH PORTRAIT ON STEEL BY RITCHIE 



SIXTH EDITION 



NEW YORK : 
A. C. ARMSTRONG & SON, 

3 and 5 West 18th Street, Near Fifth Ayenue. 

1901. 



USKARY of CONGRESS 
Two Cwie? Received 

OCT 23 »»r 

Copyright Entry 

6^2,3 /<?<>7 
CLASS 4 XXc„ No, 

copy a. 



COPTRIGHT 

1879 

By A C. Armstrong & Sow 



Press of J. J. Little & Co. 
Astor Place, New York 



PREFACE. 



It would neither be just to myself, nor compliment- 
ary to those who may become my readers, to say that 
these sermons have been chosen at random out of that 
pile of manuscripts which is constantly accumulating 
in every minister's study, and whose final destination 
is the fire. On the contrary, they have been deliber- 
ately selected, not only because of the present and 
permanent importance of their subjects, but also and 
especially because, in the experience of many who 
heard them, they were felt to be helpful to them in 
their prosecution of the Christian life. There is not 
a discourse here reproduced which has not already 
been useful to some souls, and if, when preached thus 
through the press, that usefulness shall be widened, 
the great end of their publication will be secured. 

New York, 10th Nov., 1879 
5 West Thirty-fifth Street. 

iii 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 



The Limitations of Life 1 

The Incarnation 15 

Peniel 30 

The Atonement 48 

Misplaced Anxiety 63 

The Eagle's Nest 78 

Ouit Father 95 

The Vision of God Ill 

Who is This? 127 

If not to Christ then to Whom? 144 

Prayers Offered in Ignorance Answered in Love 160 

The True Christian Holiness 175 

The Business Life of Abraham 189 

Apprehended that I may Apprehend 204 

The Element of Unconsciousness in Character 219 

Wholesome Words „. 233 

Providence 249 

Providence in the Life of Paul 264 

Transient Impressions 280 

Memory as an Element in Future Eetribution 297 

God's Message to the Desponding 312 

Unconscious Deterioration 327 

The Power of God's Gentleness 344 

Emptied from Vessel to Vessel 358 

Sowing and Reaping 375 

V 



THE LIMITATIONS OF LIFE. 

Colossians iv. 18. — " Remember my bonds." 

What an exquisite pathos there is in these words 
of Paul ! He is now " such an one as Paul the aged," 
and the tremor of years is in his hand. He is, besides, 
" the prisoner of the Lord Jesus Christ," and the 
chain by which his right arm is bound to the left arm 
of "the soldier that kept him," impedes the free mo- 
tion of his wrist, so that he cannot write with his usual 
ease. Hence, as he takes the pen from his amanu- 
ensis and appends the salutation whereby this letter 
was to be authorized, he delicately apologizes for the 
uncouth irregularity of the characters which he has 
traced by adding this clause, "Remember my bonds." 
It is a touching picture, and if I had the genius of the 
painter, I should like to delineate the venerable apos- 
tle, surrounded by his faithful friends, in the act of 
giving his autographic endorsement to the epistle 
which he has been inditing to his scribe, and which 
he is now about to send forth on its mission of in- 
struction. 

But it is not for that purpose that I have selected 
these words, as the topic for our meditation this 
morning. My design rather is to draw, from the 
circumstances in which the great apostle was at this 
time placed, a few lessons which may serve to cheer 
and encourage us amid the hampering limitations 
within which our work on earth has to be carried on. 
We have all our bonds. There is not one of us who 
1 



2 



THE LIMITATIONS OF LIFE. 



does not feel himself fettered somehow or some- 
where, so that he cannot quite accomplish all that he 
desires to do. Continually we discover that the reali- 
zation of our aspirations, or the attainment of our 
purposes, is marred by some chain, even as the pen- 
manship of Paul was made angular and irregular by 
his bonds. " We could have done so much better," so 
we often say, "if some unavoidable and disturbing 
influence had not prevented us." 

Thus we are each carrying about with us a chain, of 
which, so long as we are working within its limits, we 
may be largely unconscious, but which brings us to a 
stand the moment we have gone to its farthest length. 
The business man, if he is to serve God in his daily 
pursuits, must look after them, and so he is bound to 
his counting-house by a cord which neither his God 
nor his conscience will allow him to break. The pro- 
fessional man is hemmed in by his engagements as 
really as the prisoner is by the walls of his dungeon 
— with this difference, that in the latter case the re- 
straints are external and physical, in the former they 
are internal and spiritual. The invalid is held down 
to her couch as truly by weakness as the galley-slave 
was held to his seat by his chains ; and her devoted 
nurse is kept continually at the bedside of the sick one 
by a cord, which is not the less real because it is invisi- 
ble, or the less powerful because its strands consist of 
love. The mother is, for the most part, bound to the 
home, so that, wherever she goes, she feels tugging at 
her heart the silken string that ties her to the cradle 
a#id its tiny inmate. The poor man is hampered by 
his poverty, and he who is the servant of another 
has his service of God in some sort conditioned and 
qualified by the duties which he owes to his earthly 
master. Thus each of us has his own bonds; and 



THE LIMITATIONS OF LIFE. 



3 



hardly a day elapses without our feeling it needful at 
its close to come to God, and say to him as an ex- 
planation of the poor quality of the work we bring 
him : " Eemember my bonds." 

You know all about this, my friends ; many times 
over you felt it during the week that has just passed, 
and even as I have been speaking, you have been 
anew made conscious of the weight of your chain, 
and seem to yourselves to be hearing the clanking of 
its links. But I have not designed thus to aggravate 
your humiliation. I want rather to remove it alto- 
gether ; and it seems to me that we may find a few 
things suggested by this chapter in the history of 
Paul which may tend to reconcile us to our bonds, 
and lead us to say as he did, "most gladly will I glory 
even in mine infirmities, that the power of Christ may 
rest upon me." 

L Notice, then, in the first place, that the apostle's 
bonds were no disgrace to him. He had not been im- 
prisoned for any " matter of wrong or wicked lewd- 
ness." He was where he was because he would not 
do what he knew to be wrong. Hence his chain was 
the trophy of principle, and was really more orna- 
mental to him than the bracelets of our fashionable 
ladies are to them. If he had not cared so much 
about preaching the simple unfettered gospel of 
Christ, he would never have been subjected to this 
abridgment of his liberty. Thus though he might at 
first regret what seemed to be the effect produced by 
his bonds, he never could be sorry for or ashamed of 
the cause for which they were put upon him. Now that 
was a great deal. He could not blame his own folly 
or wickedness for his present condition. It came to 
him when he was in the way of duty, and the con- 



4 



THE LIMITATIONS OF LIFE. 



sciousness of that was a support and solace to him all 
through. 

But it is quite similar with those providential 
limitations to our service of God and of our genera- 
tion, which I have called our "bonds." There is no 
disgrace in poverty or in sickness, provided only we 
have not brought it upon ourselves by our iniquity. 
The business man has no need to be ashamed of his 
attention to his counting-house ; nay, rather, the shame 
and sin would be if through neglect he should allow 
himself to drift into ruin. The mother cannot think 
that she is disgraced by the little ones that fill the 
nursery with their glee. Disgraced ! nay, rather, she is 
highly favored among women, for it is written, " Lo ! 
children are an heritage of the Lord." And if there 
be anywhere on earth the human incarnation of that 
angel who ministered to our Lord in his Gethsemane 
anguish, it is to be found in the devoted nurse who 
tends the fevered sufferer all through his midnight 
tossings. Let us not feel ashamed, therefore, and con- 
demn ourselves if, because we are unavoidably called 
to the discharge of such duties, we cannot give our- 
selves to work in some public and popular department 
of church activity. 

I am sorry that there should be need for such 
a style of remark. But the tendency of much that 
is said nowadays is to make one dissatisfied with 
himself if he be not engaged, in some way, in one 01 
other of the common departments of ecclesiastical 
work. Now, it is good to have a church which will 
realize John "Wesley's idea, "at work, all at work, and 
always at work." But it is not good to advocate this 
in such a way as shall wound those who, because of 
the limiting conditions in their lives, cannot respond to 
the call as, in other circumstances, they would. I have 



THE LIMITATIONS OF LIFE. 



5 



known a gentle heart wellnigh broken because a min- 
ister, more remarkable for zeal than wisdom, almost 
as good as declared that those who were connected 
with the church, and who did not engage in a certain 
kind of work, were unworthy to be called ChristianSo 
But if he had only known it, the truth was that the 
quiet one whom he had almost crushed was every 
day doing a kind of service for Christ which required 
far more self-denial than that to which the preacher 
would have summoned her, and one, too, which she 
could not have neglected without sin. 

But this is not all. The effect of such unqualified 
expressions upon those who are weak in health is apt 
to be most disastrous. It leads them to think that 
they are useless where they are, and tends to develop 
in them a spirit of impatience. But in reality the 
service of suffering is as well pleasing to God as is that 
of working. Usefulness is very good. But usefulness 
is not the whole of Christianity. Holiness is better, 
because holiness is useful without making any effort 
and by the simple fact of its existence. Now holiness 
comes out in suffering as well as in working. And so, 
provided we maintain holiness within the limits of 
our chain, it is no disgrace to us that we cannot go 
beyond them. 

Shortly before I left the old country, I went to see a 
dearly beloved brother in the ministry who had been 
laid aside for two years by a severe and painful illness, 
of which he afterwards died. I had many long and 
profitable talks with him, and at length he set his 
daughter to read to me some beautiful hymns, written 
by one who was known to us both, and who had been 
kept from becoming a minister by life-long physical 
weakness. Of these my friend dwelt most upon one 
which indicated his own feelings under his trial, and 



6 



THE LIMITATIONS OF LIFE. 



as it may be serviceable to some of you, I will repeat 
it here : 

"I am not sent a pilgrim here, 
My heart with earth to fill; 
But I am here God's grace to learn, 
And serve God's sovereign will. 

" He leads me on through smiles and tears, 
Grief follows gladness still ; 
But let me welcome both alike 
Since both work out his will. 

" The strong man's strength to toil for Christ, 
The fervent preacher's skill 
I sometimes wish, — but better far 
To be just what God will. 

" I know not how this languid life 
May life's vast ends fulfil ; 
He knows, — and that life is not lost 
That answers best his will. 

"No service in itself is small, 

None great, though earth it fill ; 
But that is small, that seeks its own, 
And great that seeks God's will. 

" Then hold my hand, most gracious Lord, 
Guide all my goings still : 
And let this be my life's one aim, 
To do or bear thy will. " 

Whatever, therefore, be the limitations of thy condi- 
tion, whether they arise from poverty or sickness, or 
business or domestic duty, accept them as from God. 
They are no disgrace to you. Do all that you can do 
within them, and fret not because you can do nothing 
beyond them. Nay, remember this, that you will best 
succeed in doing something beyond them, by doing all 
you can within them. 



THE LIMITATIONS OF Lffi 



7 



II. Observe, in the second place, that Paul's bonds 
did not prevent him from being useful. I doubt not, 
for our apostle was very human, that Paul was some- 
times saddened by the thought that his long imprison- 
ment had kept him from that missionary work on 
which his heart was set ; and yet, in the long run, he 
became convinced that his chain had really advanced 
the cause to which he was devoted ; for in writing to 
the Philippians he wished them to understand " that 
the things which had happened unto him had fallen 
out rather to the furtherance of the gospel." It came 
about " on this wise." The soldier to whom he was 
bound was changed every four hours, until all the 
members of the company to which he belonged had 
taken turn in the service, and then the duty was 
passed on to another military party. So, by systema- 
tically and wisely embracing the opportunity of con- 
versing with each of his guardians, Paul became in- 
strumental in the conversion of many soldiers, and 
introduced the leaven of Christianity into the Eoman 
army. This is what he refers to when he says " my 
bonds in Christ are manifest throughout the praetorian 
guard " (for so the word translated " palace " ought to be 
rendered) " and in all other places." * He came into 
contact with the lowest and the highest of the people, 
and was blessed in the salvation not only of the run- 
away slave Onesimus, but also of some of the inmates 
of Caesar's household. 

Nor was this all. It was at this time that he wrote 
his letters to the Philippians, Colossians, Ephesians, 
and Philemon ; and who may undertake to estimate 
the results which these epistles have produced, and 
are still producing among men ! Thus Paul was laid 



* See Lightfoot's Philippians, pp. 97-102. 



8 



THE LIMITATIONS OF LIFE. 



aside from personal activity for a time, in order that, 
through these letters, he might work for all time ; and 
now, as we take a broad and comprehensive view of 
the whole case, we see that his usefulness was not 
prevented by his chain. 

Now, there is much in all this to stimulate and 
encourage us. How much the business man might 
accomplish for the Lord, if he were only to do with 
those who are brought into immediate contact with 
him what Paul did with his soldier guardians ! And is 
there on this earth any sanctuary so blessed as the sick 
chamber, where the pulpit is a couch of suffering, and 
the preacher is a patient, loving, gentle one who tries 
to bear all for Christ ? Adolph Monod, the famous 
French Protestant clergyman, preached many most 
eloquent and powerful sermons to crowded congrega- 
tions ; but none of them produced such deep and 
permanent impressions as the devout utterances, in- 
terrupted often by paroxysms of pain, which he ad- 
dressed during his long illness to those who came into 
his sick-room and joined him there in the observance 
of the Lord's Supper. His very weakness was a power 
which thrilled the hearts of his hearers, even as the 
clanking of Paul's chain was more effective than all 
his arguments, when he said before Agrippa — " ex- 
cept these bonds." And taking an illustration more 
in the line of Paul's experience in the case before 
us, I doubt whether many ministers have been in- 
strumental in converting by their sermons as many 
souls as were blessed through the letters of Harlan 
Page. 

It may seem a great hardship to the mother that 
she is kept by family cares from joining in the work of 
the mission school, or taking a share in any of the de- 
partments of active benevolence which the Church 



THE LIMITATIONS OF LIFE. 



9 



has organized. But wait a little until that bright-eyed 
boy at her side has grown up to become a godly man, 
it may be a noble minister of the gospel, and then she 
will have the satisfaction of knowing that the influ- 
ence of her training is telling through him upon 
thousands of hearts. Let this thought sink deep into 
our minds. We never lose in the long run, even in the 
matter of usefulness, by giving ourselves wholly to 
the work that is nearest us, and to which we seem to 
ourselves to be bound by a chain which we must not, 
dare not, cannot break. Another person can do as 
well in the mission school, or in the visitation of the 
ignorant from house to house, as our mother could ; 
but who save she can be a mother to her children ? 
Therefore let her do with undivided heart what lies 
nearest to her, and God through that will widen and 
perpetuate her influence. We are poor judges of ulti- 
mate results, and perhaps in the day of final apocalypse 
few things will surprise us more than the far-reaching 
benefits which have sprung from the labors of some 
humble Christian, who thought all the time that she 
was doing scarcely anything, and who, throughout, 
was feeling herself hampered and confined by the 
bonds within which Providence restrained her. Cour- 
age ! then, my friend ; do the little that you can within 
your sphere, and God will make it great. Work at 
that which is within the area of your chain, and Christ 
will carry it out far beyond the limits of your per- 
sonal and immediate circle. You may be fettered, but 
he whom you serve is not bound ; and so that which 
you put into his hand may be sent by him the world 
over. 

III. But note now, in the third place, that Paul's 
bonds did not mar his happiness. When our apostle 
1* 



10 



The limitations of life. 



was in the prison of Philippi, with his feet fast in the 
stocks and his back smarting from the scourge, we are 
told that "he prayed and sang praises unto God." And, 
doubtless, when he wrote the words of my text, the 
same joy was in his soul. In the letter to the Philip- 
pians, written at this time, he says, " I have learned 
in whatsoever state I am therewith to be content." And 
we cannot but feel that he is speaking from his own 
experience when he says, " Eejoice in the Lord alway ; 
and again I say, Eejoice," and recommends his readers 
to be careful for nothing, but in everything by prayer 
and supplication, with thanksgiving, to let their re- 
quests be made known unto God, assuring them that 
the peace of God, which passe th all understanding, 
should keep their hearts and minds through Christ 
Jesus. He could not have dictated these words if he 
had not at the time been in sympathy with the senti- 
ments which they express. We are sure, therefore, 
that peace and joy were in his heart when he thus 
spoke. Nor is this all. It may be a mere fancy of 
my own ; but it seems to me as I read over the three 
letters which date from his first imprisonment, namely, 
those addressed to the Ephesians, Colossians, and 
Philippians, that there is a lofty elevation of thought 
maintained in them, and a gladsome spirit running 
through them which we hardly discover in any other 
of his epistles. In any case, his imprisonment most 
evidently had not stifled his happiness ; his chain had 
not bound his heart. 

As I was writing these words, there broke upon my 
ears the song of a canary bird hanging in the room 
overhead. Its trilling notes were not a whit less joyous 
than those which I have often heard rained down from 
the infinite expanse of heaven by the little skylark of 
my native land. In spite of its cage that tiny warbler 



THE LIMITATIONS OF LIFE. 



11 



sings, and when its young mistress goes to speak to it, 
there is a flutter of joy in its wings, as with ruffled 
neck and chattering gladness it leaps to bid her wel- 
come. So let us accept our bonds, whether of poverty, 
or weakness, or duty, as the bird accepts its cage. 
You may cage the bird, but you cannot cage its song. 
No more can you confine or restrain the joy of the 
heart which, accepting its condition, sees God in it 
and greets him from it. To fret at our circum- 
stances will not improve them ; but it will make us 
worse ourselves. On the other hand, the way to get 
the most happiness out of life is to carry Christ con- 
tinually in our hearts. 

In the days of superstition men wore charms and 
amulets about them, under the belief that they would 
thereby insure themselves against disease. But no 
mere external appliance can keep sorrow from the 
soul. We must have Christ within it if we would 
charm misery away. That remedy is effectual. He 
" giveth songs in the night." It is an easy thing 
to make for one's self a song in the day of health and 
prosperity; but only Christ can inspire us to sing 
in feebleness and want and bondage. I do not know 
that in every point of her theology I could agree with 
Madame Guyon, but I do admire her passionate 
devotion to the Lord Jesus Christ, and I am sure 
if we had more of that we should be able in all 
our bondage, of whatsoever sort, to sing her prison 
Song : 

" My cage confines me round, 
Abroad I cannot fly ; 
But though my wing is closely bound, 

My heart's at liberty. 
My prison walls cannot control 
The flight, the freedom of the soul. 



12 



THE LIMITATIONS OP LIFE. 



" Oh! it is good to soar 

These bolts and bars above, 
To Thee whose purpose I adore, 

Whose providence I love: 
And in Thy mighty will to find 
The joy, the freedom of the wind." 

It may almost seem to be an anticlimax to apply 
these beautiful words to the minor bonds which fetter 
us to our businesses, or to our home duties, or to our 
professional pursuits. Bat other things than iron 
links do make a chain, and other things than stone 
walls do make a prison. So, in spite of the apparent 
anticlimax, I insist on bringing the principles which 
underlie these lines to bear upon our daily lives, for 
in the measure in which we do so, we shall have hap- 
piness and peace. 

IV. Notice, in the fourth place, that Paul's bonds 
did not lessen his reward. Opportunity is the meas- 
ure of responsibility. He who had only two talents 
was not accountable for more, but when he doubled 
these, his reward was in the same ratio as his who 
had doubled five. " If there be first a willing mind 
it is accepted according to that a man hath, and not 
according to that he hath not." He who sat over 
against the treasury pronounced the noblest eulogy 
over her who had cast into it the smallest coin — 
because in estimating her merit he " remembered 
her bonds." He knew that her heart was larger 
than her means, and that she was lamenting all the 
time that she had not more to give. So he will give 
the same kindly consideration to the different provi- 
dential hindrances with which we have to contend ; 
and haply they, who through their lives have been 
regretting that they have done so little, may hear 



THE LIMITATIONS OF LIFE. 



13 



at last the unexpected encomium: "He hath done 
what he could. He hath done more than they all." 

In our thoughtlessness we are apt to connect reward 
only with activity. But Christ has connected it with 
character, and that is at once indicated and strength- 
ened by suffering and by patience, as well as by work. 
Nay, I am not sure but that, when we get to right 
views on this matter, we may discover that suffering 
borne bravely for Christ is nobler than work performed 
for him. At any rate, I am sure of this, that when a 
sufferer does even in his sufferings all he can, or when 
one who is fettered by some encumbering influence 
does yet accomplish all that is possible for him, within 
the sphere that is open to him, he will in no case lose 
his reward. The consciousness of these fretting limita- 
tions will tend no doubt to make him more painfully 
sensible of the imperfections of his work. That which 
he has accomplished will be very different from that 
which he desired to do, and as he holds it up at last 
for the inspection of his Lord, he may be inclined to 
say : " It is not all that I once planned to do. It was 
in my heart to make it, oh ! so much better ! I have 
been an unprofitable servant, yet I have tried to do 
my best. Master ! Kemember my bonds ! " And the 
appeal will not be made in vain, for the reply will 
come: "Well done! enter thou into the joy of thy 
Lord." 

Nor should we forget, in connection with this whole 
subject, that we, too, are in some sort " the prisoners 
of the Lord Jesus Christ," and ought to wear our bonds 
patiently in remembrance of him. I saw lately in a 
delightful sketch of the philosopher Morse, a simple 
incident that may help here to illustrate my meaning. 
In his early painting days, Morse went into the studio 
of Benjamin West, with whom he was a special favor- 



14 



THE LIMITATIONS OF LIFE. 



ite. That great artist was then engaged upon his 
famous picture of Christ Rejected, and after carefully 
examining his visitor's hands, he said to him, " Let me 
tie you with this cord, and place you there while I 
paint in the hands of the Saviour. So he stood 
still until the work was done, bound, as it were, in the 
Saviour's stead. I can fancy that a strange thrill 
would pass through Morse's breast as he thought of 
being, in any lowliest manner, identified thus directly 
with the Lord. But that was only in a picture. In 
the sternly real life of every day, however, we are 
each in some way bound by a chain in the Redeemer's 
stead, as representing him on earth ; let us see to it, 
therefore, that we wear it as meekly and as bravely as 
he wore that wherewith for our sakes he was fastened 
to the lictor's stake. Thus again we come to that cross 
whereon for us the Saviour died, and find in it a motive 
strong enough to induce us to bear anything, or do 
anything, while we sing — 

" Must Jesus bear the cross alone, 
And all the world go free? 
No : there's a cross for every one, 
And there's a cross for me. 

" This consecrated cross I'll bear 
Till death shall set me free, 
And then go home, my crown to wew, 
For there's a crown for me." 



THE INCARNATION. 



THE PEESON OF CHEIST IN THE FOURTH GOSPEL. 

John i. 14. — " And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, 
and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the 
Father, full of grace and truth." 

The Gospel of John was written a considerable time 
after the other three, and has a character that is dis- 
tinct and peculiar. It deals especially with the dis- 
courses of our Lord, and even of these its author has 
selected the most spiritual and sublime. The other 
Evangelists give us mainly a summary of the more 
prominent incidents in the Saviour's history, incor- 
porating with that some of the more important of his 
utterances. But John presents us with a series of his 
most suggestive sayings, introducing only such events 
as are necessary to identify the occasions on which 
they were spoken, or to illustrate the meaning which 
they were intended to express. His narrative is a 
singular combination of simplicity of language with 
profundity of thought. As in looking at a mountain 
rivulet one is beguiled by its clearness into the belief 
that it is shallow, and discovers his mistake only when 
by trying to ford the stream he finds himself beyond 
his depth ; so, in reading these chapters, the plainness 
of the words is apt to impose upon us, and we think 
we understand them thoroughly, until we begin to 
question ourselves regarding them, when we perceive 
that we are attempting to fathom the infinite. This 
is particularly true in reference to the opening sec- 

15 



16 



THE INCARNATION. 



tion. We read it with ease, so that we hardly think 
it needful to pause a moment over any of its clauses ; 
but when we reach the climax in the words which I 
have taken as my text, and go back over the several 
verses by which they are preceded, we are lost in " the 
great and wide sea " which they open up for our ex- 
ploration. It is but a little way that I can venture out 
upon that boundless ocean; nevertheless, it may be 
profitable to us to look for a short time at the glorious 
truth which is set forth in these words, the rather 
that it lies at the foundation of the Gospel which we 
believe and preach. 

I. Let us attend then, first, to the person spoken of. 
He is called " The Word." Much has been written 
by learned authors on the Logos, or Word, and va- 
rious explanations of the employment of this term 
by the Evangelist have been suggested. Some have 
traced it to the Jewish Targums, which describe all 
those appearances of the Angel of the Lord which are 
recorded in the Old Testament as so many manifesta- 
tions of the "Word of God." Others have alleged 
that its use by John is to be accounted for by the fact 
that Philo, a Jewish philosopher at Alexandria, spoke 
much in his system of the word of God ; while others, 
like Maurice, would refer it to the frequent recurrence 
in the prophetical writings of the phrase, " the word 
of the Lord came unto him " — understanding that not 
of an influence, or of a communication, but of a person. 
It is difficult — perhaps in our present state impossi- 
ble — to determine which of these, or whether any of 
these, is correct. All we really know on the subject is 
contained in the verses of which the text is the last, 
and on the very surface of these the following things 
are patent to every reader — namely, first, that the 



THE INCABNATION. 



17 



Word was God ; second, that he was yet in some way 
so distinct that it could be said regarding him, " he 
was in the beginning with God ; " and third, that he 
was the creator of the universe. It is impossible to 
conceive of any stronger assertion of Deity than this, 
" the Word was God ; " while if, as we believe, the doc- 
trine of the Trinity is scriptural and true, we can, in 
some degree, understand how it can be affirmed that 
" the Word was with God." For the rest we may per- 
haps see the appropriateness of the name " Word " in 
the fact that he to whom it belongs is especially and 
peculiarly the revealer of God. Thought remains a per- 
sonal possession until it is uttered in words. Thereby 
it becomes intelligible to others, and is apprehended 
by them. So Deity in the abstract is unrevealed. 
Only through the instrumentality of the Son has he 
made himself known to men, and therefore he through 
whom this revelation is made may be fitly termed the 
" Word " of God, bearing as he does to the Godhead 
the same relation which the spoken word does to the 
secret thought of the mind. 

Yet we should be wrong if we were to suppose that 
the revelations of God through the Word began only 
at the birth of Christ. The universe itself was a 
manifestation of Godhead through the Word, for " all 
things were made by him ; and without him was not 
anything made that was made." Hence, for all of the 
wisdom, power, and goodness of God that men in any 
age have learned from the external world, they have 
been indebted to the "Word." It was he who spake 
to them through the shining stars of night, and 
through the matchless splendor of the orb of day. It 
was his voice they heard in the storm and in the sea. 
It was his teaching that led them to trace to God the 
changing of the seasons and the course of nature gen- 



18 



THE INCABNATIOtf. 



erally. We talk indeed of natural as distinguished 
from revealed religion, and there is value in the mark- 
ing of the difference between the two ; but in this view 
of things, even that which men may learn of God from 
the external universe is itself a revelation made to 
them through him who is the "Word." 

Nay, more, all those intimations of the existence and 
the character of God which have been given to men 
through conscience and the intuitions of their own 
souls, are here traced to the agency of this Divine 
Being. " In him was life, and the life was the light of 
men. That was the true Light, which lighteth every 
man that cometh into the world." These profound 
utterances thus refer all the truth that men in all na- 
tions knew about God, even in the days before the 
advent of Christ, to the instrumentality of the " Word." 
This was true very clearly among the Jews. But even 
among the heathen there were fragments of great 
principles regarding God known and recognized, and 
these, as we learn here, were only " broken lights " of 
the "Word." No doubt Judaism was in a peculiar 
sense a preparation for Christ ; but, in its own meas- 
ure, and on a lower level, heathenism was a prepara- 
tion for him too. Not among the Israelites alone was 
God's providence at work or his truth made known. 
Rays of his light found their way to other countries 
and to other hearts, and the religious rites even of 
pagan lands were, in their own way, what Trench has 
finely called them, " unconscious prophecies," which, 
as we see here, emanated from the " Word." Nay, even 
among ourselves those inextinguishable intuitions of 
the human soul, on which we must take our final stand 
in repelling the materialism of the times, by the estab- 
lishment of the existence and personality of God, are 
emanations of that " true Light, which lighteth every 



THE INCARNATION. 



19 



man that cometh into the world." In short, we have 
in the " Word " that mysterious presence of which the 
poet speaks as 

" Something far more deeply interfused, 
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, 
And the round ocean, and the living air, 
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man." 

Thus in the spiritual, as in the natural world, light 
came before the sun was visible. But it was light 
shining in darkness ; and the darkness comprehended 
it not. At length, however, the time came when there 
was to be a fuller manifestation, and when the sun of 
righteousness appeared, it was seen that all the pre- 
ceding brightness had been only the lustre of his own 
forerunning rays. 

II. "We are thus led to consider, in the second place, 
the affirmation here made regarding the Word, " He was 
made flesh ; " or rather, for so the term may be more 
literally rendered, " He became flesh." This is the 
manner in which John speaks of the birth of Christ. 
The other Evangelists give us the external facts. John 
gives us the soul that is beneath the facts. They tell 
us of the announcement made by the angel to Mary. 
They describe to us the scene which the shepherds saw 
at Bethlehem, and the visit which the Eastern sages 
made to lay their tribute of adoration at the feet of the 
infant king. John says nothing of any of these inci- 
dents, but he gives us the truth which these facts in- 
dicated, and thereby furnishes the explanation of all 
that was supernatural in them. Admit the assertion 
which John makes in my text to be a truthful descrip- 
tion of the birth of J esus Christ, and then everything 
which the other Evangelists tell about it becomes per- 



20 



THE INCARNATION. 



fectly natural, and only what in the circumstances 
might have been expected. Deny the truth of that 
which John here affirms, and everything which they 
tell becomes incomprehensible. The one great mira- 
cle is the incarnation. However mysterious it may 
be in itself, that explains everything else in the Gos- 
pels. If the Word — who was God — became flesh, all 
becomes plain, and miracles cease to offer any diffi- 
culty. If there was no Word, and no incarnation of 
Deity, then there is no longer any Gospel, and it is 
not worth while to dispute about miracles. 

But what is meant when it is said that the Word be- 
came flesh ? Not certainly that he ceased to be the 
Word ; but that, in addition to what he had been be- 
fore, he took human nature on him. He became a 
man, that through his manhood he might give to men 
a manifestation of Deity. He took not only a human 
body — for that is not manhood, that is only the taber- 
nacle in which manhood dwells — but a human nature 
into union with his Deity. If you ask me how that 
was possible, I reply, I cannot tell any more than 
I can explain how the soul, of which I am conscious, is 
united to the body, which I know to be not me but 
mine. 

But while I cannot make the mystery plain, I can 
see that this union between Deity and humanity 
must have conditioned both. It made it necessary, on 
the one hand, that the humanity should be pure, and 
so we account for the peculiar manner of Christ's 
birth, wherein for him the entail of sin was broken, 
and his very body was a holy thing. It required, on 
the other hand, that his Deity should be manifested 
under certain limitations — for it was to be manifested 
through his manhood. This is what Paul refers to 
when he says, that " though Christ was rich, for our 



THE TNCAENATION. 



21 



sakes he became poor ; " and in another connection, 
that " he made himself of no reputation," or as it is 
literally, " he emptied himself." His Deity was, in 
some sort, veiled by his humanity, and that explains 
what is said about the limitations of his knowledge, 
as when it is affirmed that he increased in wisdom. 
The incarnation to the eyes of men was a revelation 
of God ; but to the eyes of angels it was rather, for 
the time, an inveiling of God ; the tabernacle of the 
flesh curtaining, as it were, the glory of the Godhead. 
Still through that which to angels was a curtain, men 
saw more of God than they ever did before. Indeed 
but for the curtain they could have seen little or 
nothing of him at all. In looking at the sun through 
a telescope, if we use unstained glass the eye will be 
burned to the socket, and we shall see nothing ; but 
if we employ a colored medium, we can examine it 
with safety. So no man can see God and live. If 
it were possible for a mortal to look upon the un- 
veiled glory of the King Eternal, then might be real- 
ized indeed the words which with bold hyperbole one 
poet wrote of his greater predecessor : 

' ' The living throne, the sapphire blaze, 
Where angels tremble while they gaze, 
He saw, but, blasted with excess of light, 
He closed his eyes in endless night." 

But if we contemplate him through Christ, that is, 
if we come to him through the medium of humanity, 
we behold him without being destroyed, nay, the sight 
of him thus imparts salvation to us ; for we behold 
his glory as that of the only begotten, and lo it is full 
of grace and truth. 



III. But let us advance another step, and look 



22 



THE INCAENATION. 



thirdly, at the proof which the Evangelist furnishes 
of the truth of his assertion. He says, "we beheld 
his glory.''' His words thus are parallel to those of 
Peter, when in support of his affirmation that he was 
not following cunningly devised fables, he says, " we 
were eye-witnesses of his majesty," and then refers to 
the scene at the Transfiguration, and to the voice which 
came on that occasion from the excellent glory. But 
it may seem that while Peter thus brings up an inci- 
dent of Christ's history in corroboration of his asser- 
tion, the allegation of John here is unsupported. That, 
however, is a great mistake ; for the declaration of this 
verse is the text of his whole Gospel, and each suc- 
ceeding chapter presents us with some new manifes- 
tation of the glory of the Word made flesh, of which 
John was an eye-witness. It is the fashion, indeed, 
in some quarters to decry this Fourth Gospel ; and 
Renan, unable to get rid of its genuineness, seeks to 
depreciate it by calling it "the remembrances of an 
old man," and by speaking of "the disorder of the 
compilation and the irregularity of the narrative." 
But I wonder how any one can study its chapters 
with any degree of attention, and permit himself to 
use such language regarding it. To my view it is the 
most appropriate, most connected, and most convinc- 
ing argument that was ever constructed. Argument, 
I say, for though it be in the form of a narrative, the 
Epistle to the Romans itself is not more closely retic- 
ulated in its logic than is the Fourth Gospel. I am 
aware that this may strike some of you as absurd, and 
may appear to others an exaggeration; yet listen, I 
pray you, to my unfolding of the subject, and then 
judge my words as you will. 

John is to speak of the glory of the Word made 
flesh as the glory of the only begotten, But God'g 



THE INCARNATION. 



23 



revelations of himself, from the nature of the case, 
are simply and only presentations of himself. When 
he gave his name to Moses he said, "2" am." When 
Jehovah says that, then we have proof enough of his 
existence. The sun reveals himself by his beams, 
and the Son of God will reveal his Deity by this 
same "lam." Now with that thought in your mind 
sit down and read this little tract with care, and 
you will see that the person of Christ, as revealed 
through his character, actions, and words, is the 
great theme of the writer, and that each chapter 
has its own place in his elaboration of the argument 
which goes to prove that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of 
God. In the first, he is introduced to us by John the 
Baptist as the Lamb of God ; in the second, he is the 
temple of God ; in the third, he is the glorious anti- 
type of the brazen serpent ; in the fourth, he says, in 
answer to the woman's question, " I am ; " in the fifth, 
he is the judge of all ; in the sixth, he says : "I am 
the bread of life ; " in the seventh, he is the water of 
life ; in the eighth and ninth, he says twice : "I am 
the light of the world ; " in the tenth, he says : " I am 
the good shepherd ; " in the eleventh, he says : "I am 
the Eesurrection and the Life ; " in the twelfth, he is 
the King of Zion riding in triumph to his capital ; 
in the thirteenth, he is the perfect exemplar ; in the 
fourteenth, he says : " I am the way, the truth, and 
the life ; " in the fifteenth, he says : "I am the true 
vine ; " in the sixteenth, he is the precursor of the 
Comforter ; in the seventeenth, he is the great in- 
tercessor ; in the eighteenth, he is, by his own sol- 
emn asseveration to Pilate, the king of a spiritual 
domain, whose fundamental principle is truth ; in the 
nineteenth, he is the willing victim ; and in the twen- 
tieth, he is again the Besurrection and the Life, In 



24 



THE INCAKNATION. 



fact, this may be styled the gospel of tlie I am's, 
and when these shall be taken and set in order thus, 
I may surely ask if there ever was, without any formal 
or syllogistic display, a more masterly marshalling of 
arguments in favor of any conclusion than there is 
here, in proof of the thesis in my text, that "the Word 
became flesh, and dwelt among us " ? 

But some one may say, These are mere assertions. 
To which I reply, No doubt ; but then how otherwise 
than by self-assertion is God to indicate his presence ? 
"When the sun appears in the morning he simply says, 
" I am." And the true Godhead of Christ is nowhere 
more convincingly shown than in the infinite egoisms 
of this gospel. 

Still, if any one thinks that I put this point too 
strongly, then let him look at the nature of these as- 
sertions, and he will see reason to conclude that he 
who made them, if he were no more than a man, must 
have been either a fool, or a fanatic, or a dealer in 
falsehood. But the fabric of the discourses, of which 
these statements form a part, proves that he who spake 
them was no fool. The qualities of character which 
came out in his conduct bear convincing witness that 
he was no fanatic ; and the fact that the gospel which 
he taught produces in all its believers a desire for 
truth, even in the inward parts, is an infallible indica- 
tion that he could not utter that which was false. 
Hence, on all the principles of evidence usually acted 
on by men in their daily lives, we must conclude that 
Jesus Christ has, by these " I ams" displayed his 
Godhead before men. 

But there may be some one who is still uncon- 
vinced, and to him I say, Read over with care that 
prayer in the seventeenth chapter, and tell me, if you 
can, how it came to be there ? Listen to these words ; 



THE INCARNATION. 



25 



" This is life eternal, that they might know thee the 
only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast 
sent." " I have glorified thee on the earth." " Glorify 
thou me with thine own self with the glory which I 
had with thee before the world was." "Father, I will 
that they whom thou hast given me be with me where 
I am." There is another of these I am's, and in some 
respects the most remarkable of them all, for when he 
used these words he was just entering Gethsemane, 
though very clearly they refer to the home, if I may 
so say, of his Deity. Now an insane man might have 
said these things, but then he who uttered the re- 
mainder of that prayer was evidently very far indeed 
from insanity, and so we cannot accept that theory. 
Again, a bad man could not have presented that prayer, 
for it would have been impossible for him, even by 
the power of imagination, to have conceived such a 
situation as that out of which it rose, or to have pro- 
duced such pure and holy sentiments as are expressed 
in the supplication, when taken as a whole. But if a 
bad man could not have written it, a good man would not. 
For a good man on his knees is full of humility, and 
the better he is as a man, the farther he is from say- 
ing that eternal life for others consists, in any sense, 
in the knowledge of himself. Hence this prayer car- 
ries on it the indication of the fact that it came out of 
a unique personality, and that he who uttered it was 
both really God and truly man. It is impossible to 
account for its existence on any other principle, and 
therefore the disciple who overheard it might truly 
say, " that he beheld," the while, " the glory of the only 
begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth." 

I have given you, in all this, only a specimen of the 
argument of this matchless treatise. I could not hope 
to exhaust it in many sermons, much less in a single dis- 
% 



26 



THE INCABNATION. 



course ; but my object will be gained if any wavering 
mind among you has been established in the truth, or 
if you may be generally stimulated to study for your- 
selves the gospel which I have this morning only 
faintly outlined. 

IV. I have left myself but little time to indicate the 
valuable results that flow from the reality of the incar- 
nation, but I must crave leave to mention three : 

1. The reality of Christ's Deity gave sacrificial efficacy 
to his death on our behalf. When we think of the death 
of Christ, we must remember that its importance is 
not only in the fact that he died, but also and espe- 
cially in that it was he who died. The death of an- 
other could not have availed, but his death was effica- 
cious. I have never seen this so clearly put as in 
the following sentences, by my revered tutor, John 
Brown, of Edinburgh, which I delight to quote, the 
rather as I seem to myself, the while, to see again the 
glance of that eagle eye, and to hear once more the 
tones of that ringing voice : " Jesus had a life to lay 
down, which could make expiation for sin and save the 
sheep. There never was life in the universe which 
could have served this purpose but his, — the life of a 
perfectly holy man, in union with God. The life of God 
could not have served the purpose ; that life could not 
be laid down, for God lives by necessity of nature, and 
if that life could be laid down the consequence would 
be not the salvation of men, but the annihilation of the 
universe. The life of man could not have done it. 
The life even of an innocent man is God's gift, and 
when God calls back his gift, what merit is there in 
quietly, gratefully restoring it? The life of a guilty 
man could not do it. None could redeem his brother, 
none could redeem himself, for the desert in every 



THE INCAKNATION. 



27 



case was death. The life of the whole animal crea- 
tion was obviously unfit to take away sin. The only 
life by the laying down of which expiation could be 
made was that of the incarnate only-begotten, the man 
in union with God, one whose life was his own prop- 
erty, and such a property as was fully adequate to the 
end contemplated." * Similar language and a similar 
argument may be found by you in the Pilgrim's Prog- 
ress, in a conversation between Great-Heart and Chris-* 
tian, which I leave you to search out for yourselves. 
But what I wish you to observe is, that if such reason- 
ing be sound, then the fact of the incarnation attests 
the infinite sufficiency of the atonement. Because 
Jesus was the Son of God, every one may sing — 

4 ' His blood can make the foulest clean, 
His blood avails for me." 

He is "mighty to save," because he is God, and 
when Paul challenges the universe with the question, 
" Who is he that condemneth ? " he immediately adds, 
"it is Christ that died." That is enough, O sinner! 
He who died for thee was the incarnate only-begotten, 
and there is an infinite dignity in his person which 
gives unlimited sufficiency to his atonement. 

2. Again, the reality of Christ's manhood assures us 
of perfect sympathy at his hands. " He knoweth our 
frame." " Himself took our infirmities and bare our 
sicknesses." " He has been in all points tempted like 
as we are." " He is an high-priest who can be touched 
with a feeling of our infirmities." He is a man and 
knoweth a man's heart. Now that is a great deal. We 
can always be sure that he understands our case, for 



* "Discourses and Sayings of the Lord Illustrated." Vol. ii., 
p. 185. 



28 



THE INCARNATION. 



though he be ascended into glory, he weareth yet our 
nature, and we may sing — 

" In every pang that rends our heart 
The man of sorrows has a part ; 
He sympathizes with our grief, 
And to the sufferer sends relief. " 

This is the true tenderness of the gospel. God the 
unveiled overawes the sinner. When he shows his 
glory, as on Sinai, it has an aspect of terror to the 
guilty, and makes them fear and quake. But God 
incarnate in Jesus Christ attracts, for he comes to 
wipe our tears, to bind our hearts, to pacify our con- 
sciences, and to purify our lives- Macaulay never 
wrote more truly than when he said, " It was before 
Deity embodied in a human form, walking among men, 
partaking of their infirmities, leaning on their bosoms, 
weeping over their graves, slumbering in the manger, 
bleeding on the cross, that the prejudices of the syna- 
gogue, and the doubts of the academy, and the fasces 
of the lictor, and the swords of thirty legions were 
humbled in the dust." By his very gentleness the 
incarnate Son does make men great, and he who seeks 
for purest sympathy and richest solace must betake 
himself to Christ. 

3. Finally, the union of the human nature to the di- 
vine in Jesus makes the resources of Deity available to 
us. We get at God through the manhood of Christ. He 
has thus added the accessibility of humanity to the 
omnipotence of Deity. Of what avail is a harbor of 
refuge to the laboring ship, if its helmsman cannot 
make the port ? What good shall a covert do to me, 
if I cannot get beneath it? But now in Christ the 
Godhead with all its attributes is within my reach. 
Is it not written, " A man shall be as an hiding-place 



THE INCAKNATIOH. 



29 



from the wind and a covert from the tempest " ? He 
is a man — therefore we can get to him. He is God — 
therefore when we are in him the shield of his omnip- 
otence is our defence. Come, then, to him, sinner ! 
and he will save and bless and protect thee on earth, 
and share with thee his glory in the heavenly land. 



PENIEL. 



Genesis xxxii. 24. — "And Jacob was left alone ; and there wres- 
tled a man with him, until the breaking of the day." 

Yeaes ago one might have been content to discourse 
from this text without lingering a single moment over 
any preliminary criticism ; but, in these later days, so 
many theories have been propounded regarding this 
and similar portions of the Pentateuch, that before 
proceeding to the consideration of the spiritual lessons 
of the narrative, I feel compelled to indicate, and per- 
haps also, in some sort, to vindicate, the view which I 
have adopted of its historical character. 

Let it be observed, then, that this is not the record 
of a vision. Some have contended that it must be 
regarded in this light ; but if you will compare the 
verses which I have just read with those which de- 
scribe the sleep and the vision of the patriarch at 
Bethel, you will see at once such a difference between 
the two as will prevent you from adopting the opinion 
that they both belong to the same category. There is 
liot a syllable here indicating anything like a vision, 
and but for the miraculous character of the incidents 
described, no one would have thought of putting such 
a construction on them. 

Neither, again, can the narrative contained in these 
verses be resolved into a myth, which, as is well 
known, is only a poetic fable, enshrining in it some 
spiritual truth. Thus regarded, the story would de- 
scribe only a deep spiritual conflict in the soul of 
Jacob himself; while the presence of the angel, in 
30 



PENIEL. 



31 



human form, would be discarded as fact, but would be 
held as indicating that there was in the heart of the 
patriarch at the time an intensely real sense of Jeho- 
vah's nearness to him. This is the view which has 
been adopted and expounded by the late Frederick 
Eobertson of Brighton, in a sermon which is pervaded 
with all the freshness, fervor, and genius for which 
that gifted man was so remarkable. But a close atten- 
tion to the narrative will convince us that such an 
opinion cannot be maintained, if at least we would 
give a fair and honest interpretation to the words be- 
fore us, and seek to get at the impression which their 
author intended that they should convey. Besides, 
not to mention the fact that if you resolve this story 
into a myth, it will be hard to say where you are to 
stop, there are some features here which, to our 
thinking, clearly point to the conclusion that the nar- 
rative is to be accepted in its literal sense. There is, 
for example, the name of the place, Peniel, founded on 
the whole scene ; and there is also that peculiar cus- 
tom, prevalent among the children of Israel, of refrain- 
ing from eating a certain muscle in the bodies of the 
animals slain for food, which is explained as having 
its origin in the circumstances which are here re- 
corded. Now if a history, thus surrounded with me- 
morial names and customs, is to be discarded, and its 
literal character denied, the difficulty will be to retain 
any portion of the sacred narrative at all. It may be 
said, indeed, that in parting with the history as fact, 
we are merely throwing away the shell, while the ker- 
nel of truth within it may be retained ; but it needs to 
be remembered that the shell and the kernel grow 
together, and that the one is the God-provided pro- 
tection of the other ; so that we may rest assured that 
if we let go the historic verity of these books, they 



32 



PENIEL. 



will very soon cease to possess for us any spiritual 
value. 

We accept, therefore, this narrative in its literal 
sense ; we believe that a man was really there with the 
patriarch during that memorable night ; we hold as fact 
that everything occurred as it is here described. If it 
be asked who that mysterious man was, we have no 
difficulty in giving the answer, for in the thirtieth verse 
Jacob, referring to him, says, "I have seen God face to 
face, and my life is preserved ; " and the prophet Hosea, 
alluding to the narrative before us, says,* " Jacob had 
power over the angel ; he wept and made supplication 
unto him." This man, therefore, was also God, and 
so we conclude that he was no created angel, but 
rather the Angel of the Covenant, and that we have 
here one of those partial and temporary anticipations 
of the Incarnation which were given from time to time 
in the patriarchal and Mosaic economies, and which 
prepared the way for the full manifestation of the 
great " mystery of godliness " in human flesh. 

But while contending thus earnestly for the literal 
and historical character of this narrative, I also most 
cheerfully admit, nay more, would strenuously main- 
tain, " that though the form of this wrestling here 
was corporeal, the essence and the object of it were 
spiritual. "t One must be very blind indeed if he 
do not see that. Jacob was in deep distress when he 
crossed the Jabbok that night, and recognizing the 
Bethel angel in the mysterious man who came to 
him, he threw himself on him for that help which 
no mere human power could render him, and cried 
with passionate earnestness for a blessing. No doubt, 



* Hosea, xii. 4. 

f Andrew Fuller' Discourses on Genesis in loco. 



PEOTEL. 



33 



therefore, this physical wrestling was but the agoniz- 
ing of an earnest heart, which took this manner of 
expressing itself, from the fact that Jehovah's pres- 
ence was manifested under a human form. It is ? in 
this light we shall view it now, and so, while preserv- 
ing our faith in the literal character of the narrative, 
we get at the same time every spiritual advantage 
which can be derived from it. Wherefore — having 
brushed away all mere preliminaries from our path — 
let us attend for a little to the aspects of spiritual 
experience which this whole story sets so vividly 
before us. 

I. For one thing, we have here a striking illustra- 
tion of the loneliness of all real distress. There is a 
certain solitariness about every man. The proverb 
says that "there is a skeleton in every house," and it 
is equally true that there is a secret closet in every 
heart where the soul keeps its skeleton, and to which, 
after sending wife and children across the brook, it 
retires in times of sadness and isolation. There is 
something in every soul that is never told to mortal, 
but which, as if to make up for its being withheld from 
others, has a strange fascination for ourselves ; and in 
every moment of silence it is heard sounding in our 
secret ear. Even those nearest and dearest to us 
know not of these hidden things. They are kept for 
solitude ; nay, such is sometimes their power over us 
that they draw us into retirement that they may speak 
to us awhile. 

Different exceedingly in their character may those 
things be that are hidden thus in the secret chamber 
of men's hearts. They differ in different individ- 
uals, and in the same individual at different times. 
In some they may be memories of guilt, as in the 
2* 



34 



PENTEL. 



case of Cain, who in dark isolation wandered. o'er 
the earth, with the mark of God's imprinting on his 
forehead ; in some they may be pangs of sorrow, as 
when David, leaving those by whom he was sur- 
rounded, went up to the solitude of the chamber oyer 
the gate of Mahanaim, and paced its floor in anguish, 
saying evermore, " O my son Absalom ! my son, my son 
Absalom ! would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, 
my son, my son ! " In some they may be moments of 
temptation, as when Jesus went from the glories of his 
baptism into the wilderness, that single-handed he 
might confront and conquer the prince of darkness. 
In some they may be times of anguish, as when the 
same Jesus in Gethsemane withdrew from his com- 
panions and threw himself upon the ground, that he 
might weep, and pray, and bleed, alone. 

In the case of Jacob here, guilt and suspense were 
the troublers of his soul. He could not forget how, 
years before, he had cheated Esau out of his birth- 
right ; and now he is about to meet his brother once 
again, and knows not whether the interview is to be 
one of reconciliation or of revenge. True, he has 
taken all proper precautions to preserve the members 
of his company from harm, and has used all likely 
means to soften his brother's heart. True, again, he 
has committed his case in simple fervent prayer to 
God ; yet the suspense of his heart is such that he 
can endure no society for the time ; so, having seen 
his encampment safely settled for the night, he re- 
crosses the ford to be alone, that no one but God may 
overhear his soliloquy ; that unrestrained by the pres- 
ence of another he may unsluice his heart and let out 
the bitter waters of its deep anxiety. 

Now we all know about this, and even as I have 
been speaking we have each been fingering the key 



PENEEL. 



35 



which unlocks that secret drawer in the soul's cabinet 
to which I have been alluding. But we may not open 
it now. "We cannot suffer other human eyes to look 
upon its contents. That sin of our youth, the memory 
of which, like a dogging detective, has kept ever track- 
ing our steps ; that act of thoughtlessness which we 
committed, and which drew in its train consequences 
of the saddest sort which we had not for a moment 
dreamed of ; that terrible temptation, which even now 
as it comes surging on seems as if it would sweep us 
from our foothold ; that impending danger, which ap- 
pears to be hanging over us like a cloud laden with 
electric ruin — ah ! these are not themes which we can 
speak of at the public meeting, or to the casual ac- 
quaintance who greets us in the street ; or even to our 
most intimate and confidential friend. But when our 
homes are silent and our children are at rest, when, 
Jacob-like, we have taken all our household over the 
brook, and recrossed it into solitude, then it is that 
they present themselves to us in their true magni- 
tude, and when, to use the words of Bobertson, " we 
have gone through in imagination the whole circle of 
our resources and found them nothing and ourselves 
powerless, there comes a strange, a nameless dread, a 
horrible feeling of insecurity, which gives the con- 
sciousness of a want and forces us to feel out into the 
abyss for something that is mightier than flesh and 
blood to lean upon." 

Every real sorrow or struggle isolates us from our 
fellows. Just as we shall have each to die alone, 
so every minor suffering takes us apart from the 
multitude, and the keener the suffering the more 
thorough is the isolation. We are thus, so to say, 
islanded by spiritual distress, and no one may ap- 
proach us thoroughly save He who erst did walk 



36 



over the very billows of their trouble, to His suf- 
fering disciples' help. We crave for human sympa- 
thy, indeed, but even at the very moment of our crav- 
ing we feel how vain the longing is, for well we know 
our heart has a bitterness which it refuses to make 
known to another mortal ; and when we try to give 
sympathy to others, what are our attempts at best 
but " bows drawn at a venture," inasmuch as we know 
not really the sufferer's woe ? Ah ! how many who 
have been compelled to listen to the consolations of 
others, kindly meant but far away from the mark, 
have felt their words fall like hailstones on their 
hearts, and have said like Job, " O that ye would alto- 
gether hold your peace, for that would be your wis- 
dom " ! How often, too, when we have been misjudged 
and misrepresented by our fellows, have we felt like 
Jacob here, sleepless in our solitude, and looked out 
through the darkness for some Peniel angel to come 
to our relief. There are no more weird lines in the 
whole round of our literature than these in the Ancient 
Mariner, which exactly describe the experience of 
which I speak : 

"Alone ! alone ! all all alone 1 
Alone on the wide sea ! 
******* 
So lonely 'twas that God himself 
Scarce seemed there to be ! " 

That is the very climax of distress, and only they who 
have themselves passed through it can fully under- 
stand the import of these words : " Jacob was left 
alone." 

II. But the narrative before us teaches us that in 
this dreary solitude our only effectual resource is 
Incarnate God. Jacob's loneliness was not of long 



1>ENIEL. 



37 



continuance, for in the time of his severest need there 
came to him a man, whom yet by certain marks he 
knew to be also God, and on him, in a paroxysm of 
perplexity, the patriarch threw himself, crying for 
deliverance. It is to be remarked that this myste- 
rious stranger, in whom God was in part concealed, 
and in part also revealed, presented himself to Jacob, 
and that he came in the form best fitted to call forth 
the confidence of his anguished soul. Not in the ra- 
diance of unveiled divinity does Jehovah here appear ; 
not with those terrible outriders that went before 
him when he descended on Sinai does he now ap- 
proach. Had he come thus, Jacob's heart would have 
been appalled ; the fear of Esau would have been swal- 
lowed up in his terror of the Lord, and he would have 
fled from the awful presence. As it was, however, 
the patriarch saw a man, whom he could freely ap- 
proach as a fellow-man ; while there was that about 
him which made him feel that he was more than man, 
and that he had in him the very element of strength 
which at the moment he so sorely needed. Had he 
not come in human form, Jacob would have been 
driven away from him ; had he been a man, and noth- 
ing more, then for the very reasons I have already ad- 
vanced Jacob would still have been virtually without 
a helper. But now, though there is a man before him 
to whom he can speak with confidence, there is more 
than a man, even God, to whom the skeleton chamber 
of his heart is no secret, and who is omnipotently 
able to help him. Here, therefore, is the very helper 
whom he needs; and so he casts himself upon him 
and cries out for succor. 

Now in all this, anticipation and prophecy as it was 
of the Incarnation ages after, we are reminded of the 
God-man Jesus Christ, and are taught in all our time 



38 



PENtEL. 



of agony and crisis to cling to him. For as this mys- 
terious one came to Jacob, so Jesus came to earth, 
a human brother, and, at the same time, a divine 
helper. And herein does he not precisely meet our 
need ? As a man he comes, and so we need not be 
afraid of him. 

You know the beautiful story which Homer tells in 
connection with the parting of Hector and Andromache. 
The hero was going to his last battle, and his wife ac- 
companied him as far as the gates of the city, followed 
by a nurse carrying in her arms their infant child. 
When he was about to depart Hector held out his 
hands to receive the little one, but, terrified by the 
burnished helmet and the waving plume, the child 
turned away and clung crying to his nurse's neck. In 
a moment, divining the cause of the infant's alarm, the 
warrior took off his helmet and laid it on the ground, 
and then, smiling through his tears, the little fellow 
leaped into his father's arms. Now, similarly, Jehovah 
of hosts, Jehovah with the helmet on, would frighten 
us weak guilty ones away ; but in the person of the 
Lord Jesus he has laid that helmet off, and now the 
guiltiest and the neediest are encouraged to go to his 
fatherly embrace, and avail themselves of his support. 

But while thus his humanity emboldens us to apply 
to him, his divinity furnishes us with the help we 
need. That which I cling to for strength must be 
something other than myself, and something stronger 
than myself, otherwise it will be to me as worthless 
as a broken reed. When in the howling hurricane 
wave after wave is breaking over the ship and sweep- 
ing the deck from stem to stern, it will not do for the 
sailor to depend upon himself; neither will it avail 
for him to grasp his fellow, for they may together be 
washed into the deep ; but he lays hold of the iron 



PENIEL. 



bulwark, making the strength of the iron for the mo- 
ment to be as his own, and is upheld. So in the surges 
of agony that sooner or later sweep over every man, it 
will not do for him to depend upon himself, or even to 
hold by a fellow-mortal. He needs one who while he 
is a brother is mightier than any human brother ; and 
here in Jesus Christ, the God-man, the great neces- 
sity of his heart is met ; for here is the omnipotence 
of divinity added to the accessibility of humanity. 

Nor is this all. Jesus Christ as God is omniscient 
as well as omnipotent. He knows, therefore, precisely 
what is wrong with us. The deepest recesses of our 
hearts are open to him. As the Danish hymn has 
beautifully put it, 

' ' What in the heart lies deepest ever, 
TJnbreathed by mortal lip abroad, 
And heard by ear of mortal never, 

Takes voice before the throne of God. 
The silence of our spirit tells 
Its tale aloud where Jesus dwells." 

To him, therefore, O burdened soul, repair, and he will 
give relief. Is it sin that is aching at thy conscience ? 
He knows it and can give thee pardon through his sac- 
rificial blood. Is it sorrow that is wringing thy heart? 
Then, though its cause may be unknown to him who 
sits beside thee, he is already familiar with it, and 
can give thee solace. Is it the fear of some impend- 
ing calamity that is darkening thy spirit? He is 
acquainted with it, and can sustain thee through it. 
Is it temptation that is beleaguering thy soul? He has 
already seen it, and can garrison thy heart's fortress 
against every enemy. Is it the meeting of some offended 
brother, harder to be won than a city, that is weighing 
down thy life ? He understands thy case and can give 
thee deliverance. Yea, brother, sister, whosoever thou 



40 



PENXEL. 



art, and whatsoever be that suffering which has to-day 
sent thee across the brook in solitude, Jesus Christ is 
thy resource, and he will give thee perfect sympathy 
and effectual help. To him, therefore, betake thyself. 
Throw thyself on him with the wailing cry of Heze- 
kiah on thy lips, " O Lord, I am oppressed, undertake 
for me," and he will give thee strength. 

III. But the narrative before us teaches us, farther, 
that our first application to this divine friend may be 
met with seeming repulse, but that believing impor- 
tunity will ultimately prevail. From the peculiar form 
of expression used in the record, I gather that when 
this mysterious one came to Jacob, the patriarch cast 
himself upon him, and that then the stranger tried to 
shake him off. But the more he attempted to do this, 
the more passionately did Jacob cling to him, until 
at length touching the hollow of the patriarch's thigh, 
he deprived him of all power to stand. Not even then, 
however, would Jacob be gainsaid ; nay rather, this 
paralyzing of his limbs only threw the patriarch's 
whole weight upon the heavenly stranger, as clinging 
to him with his arms, he cried, "I will not let thee go 
except thou bless me." But this moment of extremest 
helplessness was at the same time that of richest vic- 
tory, for just then came the answer : " Thy name shall 
be called no more Jacob, but Israel ; for as a prince 
hast thou power with God, and hast prevailed." 

Now what have we here but an Old Testament 
parallel to the touching New Testament story of the 
Syrophenician woman. In deep anguish of soul she 
came to Jesus, saying, " Have mercy upon me, O Lord, 
thou son of David ; my daughter is grievously vexed 
with a devil." But there was no response. Those 
ears that never before were deaf to the cry of suffer- 



PENTEL. 



41 



ing seem closed to her ; those lips that never before 
refused to speak a word of comfort and of power to 
the forlorn seemed sealed to her — " he answered her 
not a word." But she would not be thus shaken off; 
she renewed her appeal so very urgently that even 
the disciples seem to be ashamed and say, " Send her 
away, for she crieth after us." To this he made reply, 
"lam not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house 
of Israel." One would have thought that such a 
speech would have repelled her ; but no, she came 
now nearer than ever, and fell at his feet and wor- 
shipped him, saying, "Lord, help me." To this he 
makes response, " It is not meet to take the children's 
bread and to cast it to dogs." Ah ! there he touched 
the hollow of the thigh, and seemed almost to cast 
her to the earth ; but no, she clings more really than 
ever to him, and from his very rebuff she draws a 
plea, as she meekly makes reply, " Truth, Lord ; yet 
the dogs eat the crumbs which fall from their master's 
table. I did not ask the children's bread : what I 
seek is but to thee as a crumb from off thy table, 
which even a dog may eat." Then came the commen- 
dation of her faith, as of Jacob's here : " O daughter ! 
great is thy faith." 

Nor is that a solitary New Testament instance. 
You have a case of the same sort when walking over 
the waters toward his worn-out disciples he made 
to pass by them, in order that he might evoke their 
earnest request that he should come to them. And 
you have another when to the two disciples, on the 
way to Emmaus, he made as if he would have gone 
farther, just that he might draw out their earnest 
request, "Abide with us, for it is toward evening, 
and the day is far spent." And, my brethren, has 
it not been so many a time with the people of God 



42 



PENIEL. 



since ? We need here to be on our guard against mis- 
understanding the Lord. When our earnest applica- 
tions to him appear to be met with indifference, when 
our repeated importunity seems only to call forth re- 
peated repulse, when in the yearning earnestness of 
our entreaty our hearts feel as if they had lost all 
strength, even as Jacob's limb went from beneath him 
when the angel touched it, let us remember that his 
design is either to bring our faith to the birth, or by 
the discipline of resistance to develop it into greater 
strength, and let us cling to him all the more, saying, 
"I will not let thee go, except thou bless me." That 
is a wholesome weakness which throws our entire 
weight on Christ, for then we are in the fair way to 
realize Paul's paradox, " When I am weak, then am I 
strong." 

But it is not alone for the strengthening of our faith 
that the answer to our application may be deferred. 
Jesus may design thereby to open our eyes to our real 
need. For observe, though it was suspense concern- 
ing Esau that was at first oppressing Jacob, there is 
no mention of that in this wrestling. He has discov- 
ered that he needs something far more important than 
reconciliation to his elder brother. He wants to know 
God's name, that is, his relation to him, and he de- 
sires a blessing from him. Thus through the appa- 
rent denial of the minor request he is brought to feel 
his need of something greater than he had thought at 
first of asking. Now is it not thus very frequently 
with God's children still ? There comes to us some 
temporal trial, and we go across the J abbok to cry over 
that ; but God seems only to push us away from him, 
and the trial becomes heavier, until at length driven 
in upon our deepest need, we are constrained to ask, 
" What is thy name ? O that thou wouldst bless me in- 



PEOTEL. 



43 



deed ! " The earthly emergency is forgotten in our spir- 
itual extremity ; and the higher blessings of holiness 
and salvation engross all our earnestness. It has been 
thus in the experience of many that their new life has 
begun in conversion, and many more have been raised 
by the same means to a higher platform of character 
than they had previously attained. So it happens 
that the delay of God in Christ to answer our prayers 
in earthly distress has been itself the beginning of his 
gracious answer to that constant craving for the knowl- 
edge of himself which is the deepest aspiration of 
every thoughtful heart. Let us give God time, and 
very soon, as the result of our earnestness, we shall 
find that while the delay has permanently benefited 
our own souls, the offended Esau has also been ap- 
peased. But never let us forget that if we would se- 
cure these results we must hold him fast and refuse 
to let him go. 

IV. I hasten to add, in the last place, that such an 
experience as that which we have been tracing always 
leaves its mark on the individual who has passed 
through it, and renders memorable the place where it 
was undergone. " Jacob halted upon his thigh " — that 
was literal fact. But that was not the only permanent 
memorial of his night of wrestling which Jacob bore 
upon him. That was, in truth, but the corporeal in- 
dication of a spiritual result. The rocks beneath us 
bear the marks of the flames, to the action of which, 
millenniums ago, they were exposed ; and in the moun- 
tain ridges of our planet we may see the record of 
those terrible convulsions and upheavals to which in 
former ages it was subjected. In like manner the 
spirit of a man is marked by the fires of those trials 
through which he has been made to pass ; and we 



PENIEL. 



may see in the character and disposition of an indi- 
vidual the indications or results of those inner strug- 
gles through which he has been brought. 

Who can fail to observe the difference between Israel 
and Jacob ? I will not venture to say that this was the 
night of the patriarch's conversion ; but most assured- 
ly if his spiritual life did not begin here, he was at 
least taught here the way of God more perfectly. He 
had been quickened many years before at Bethel ; but 
we are constrained to say that when he was in the 
house of Laban he too largely forgot his vow, and 
showed not a little of that same trickery that had jug- 
gled Esau out of his birthright. No doubt, so far as 
Laban is concerned, it was " diamond cut diamond " 
between them, and one is apt to agree with Dr. Chal- 
mers, when of the whole Padanaram settlement he 
says "they were a wily, politic, and deceitful set." 
All these years, therefore, Jacob lay stranded on the 
sandbank of deceit ; but on this Peniel night there 
came such a spring-tide of devotional feeling and fer- 
vor as lifted him up and floated him off, and from 
this point on the Jacob — or supplanter — in him disap- 
pears, and the Israel comes into view. If with this 
thought in your mind you will read the first portion 
of Jacob's life up till this point, and then peruse the 
record of his history from this era on till his death, 
you will be struck with the difference between the 
two. Up till this chapter you are never drawn toward 
him. There is little about him that you can either 
sympathize with or approve, but after this you feel 
that you take a deeper interest in his welfare. He 
becomes more lovable, more meek, more holy, and 
as you read on, you are attracted to him as to a father, 
so that when his children stand round his death-bed 
to receive his dying blessing, you feel almost as if 



PENIEL. 



45 



you were one of them, and are disposed to join with 
them in their lamentations over him. That night of 
wrestling, brief as it was, left an impression on the 
patriarch which time, instead of effacing, only chiselled 
into deeper relief, and brought out in sharper outline. 

And is not this just as true of men's characters to- 
day ? Has not something like this been the case with 
ourselves, and can we not point to some crisis in our 
own career which has given, shall I say, that set of 
gait to our disposition by which its individuality is at 
once recognized by all around us? In the heated 
state of the metal the die comes down upon it, and 
stamps its image permanently there. It is the work 
of a brief space, but the impression lasts while the 
metal endures. So in the white heat of the soul dur- 
ing some time of inner agony it becomes soft and 
impressible, and then comes God's minting Spirit to 
enstamp himself upon it, making an impression which 
no time can obliterate and no change efface. So well 
understood is this by us all, that whenever we see a 
man of very marked Christian individuality, whether 
for tenderness or ruggedness, we instinctively con- 
clude that some Peniel nights have made him what 
he is. Be it ours therefore, when we are in the crisis, 
so to bear ourselves through it that we may come 
forth from it, like Jacob here, purified and ennobled. 

But I said also that these experiences render memo- 
rable the place where we passed through them. " Jacob 
called the name of the place Peniel," but he did not, 
as at Bethel, set up a pillar. He needed not any such 
outward memorial this time, for the wrestling of the 
night had burned its remembrance indelibly upon his 
heart, and many a time in his later life would he look 
back with gratitude on the blessing which he there 
received. But we know little of religious experience 



46 



PENIEL. 



if we cannot point to similar places in our own careers 
where in a very special manner God in Christ has 
come to us with strengthening and cheer. It may be 
our closet or study ; it may be the corner of the street 
car or the bench of the railway carriage ; it may be 
the shore of the far-resounding sea, or the sweet rural 
valley ; or, as in the case of a dear friend of mine, the 
foot-walk of the crowded city streets. Years ago, 
while walking arm and arm through the city of Glas- 
gow with a fellow-student, now a minister of Christ, 
he stopped me and said : " Do you see that court-yard 
there, with the archway entrance into it ? I remember 
when I was in a manufacturer's establishment in this 
city I was sorely tempted to do what I knew to be 
dreadfully wrong, and I had almost yielded ; I was 
sent out on a message, and being again assailed by the 
temptation, I turned into that entry, and there, be- 
neath the arch, I took out my little pocket New Tes- 
tament and opened it. In the good providence of God 
my eye fell upon these words : ' God is faithful, who 
will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are 
able : but will with the temptation also make a way to 
escape, that you may be able to bear it.' I was ena- 
bled to take hold of the hand he thus held out to me, 
and now as I pass the place I call it my Peniel, for I 
saw God face to face, and my life was preserved." 
Brethren, these places mark our progress heaven- 
ward. They are battle-fields whereon Christ ena- 
bled us to overcome self and sin, and they are memo- 
rable to the soul, as its Leipzigs, its Waterloos, its 
Getty sburgs, each having its own peculiar glory and 
all leading up to that blessed state where our conflicts 
shall be over, because the final victory has been won. 

Thus have I extracted from this precious history 
some of the teachings which it suggests. I have left 



PENIEL. 



47 



more than I have taken, for no matter what passage of 
Scripture one selects for meditation, he will find that 
it is with him as with the disciples when the Lord brake 
the loaves and fishes, and the fragments that remain 
after the feast will be greater than the repast which 
was first served appeared to be. I cannot conclude, 
however, without observing that in this night spent by 
Jacob on the other side of the brook, one may see with- 
out any great strain of imagination a kind of picture 
of our earthly life as a whole ; for what is our life but 
wrestling in the dark with difficulties and perplexities 
all leading up to this great central question, " What 
is thy name, O God, and how shall I gain a blessing 
from thee ? " To these inquiries an answer has been 
given by the Lord Jesus Christ ; it is only as yet a 
partial answer, and suggests itself a great many new 
questions, but it is an answer sufficient for our pres- 
ent need. We shall know the rest when the day 
breaketh. Death shall bring a light that will make 
many mysteries plain, provided all through life we 
hold by Jesus and refuse to let him go. Men speak of 
death indeed as night ; but to the Christian it is 
dawn. Thus let us think of it, and let us sing this 
prayer : 

' ' Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes, 
Shine through the gloom and light me to the skies. 
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee ; 
In life, in death Lord, abide with me." 



THE ATONEMENT. 



Colossians. i. 20. — " And having made peace through the Wood 
of his cross, by him to reconcile all things unto himself ; by him, 
I say, whether they be things in earth, or things in heaven." 

These words open up to us a wide range of inquiry, 
in the prosecution of which our intellects lose them- 
selves, not so much, however, because of any obscu- 
rity in the subject, as because of the limited nature of 
our faculties themselves. Yet although we must, for 
the present at least, despair of fully understanding 
the teaching of the apostle here, we must not, on 
that account, allow ourselves to be deterred from ex- 
amining it, as far as we are able to do so. Indeed it 
is only by prosecuting our investigation to the utmost 
that we can form any adequate conception of the 
grandeur of the idea which Paul has here expressed. 
We shall not be able to make a voyage of discovery 
across this vast ocean, but we may coast along its 
shore, and learn thereby something of its glory ; or, if 
we cannot do even that, we can stand upon the beach 
and look out over its waters ; we can pick up a few of 
the pebbles that lie upon its " glittering strand," or 
taking up one of the shells at our feet, we can put it 
to our ear and hear its solemn echoes of the wondrous 
sounds that roll, in ceaseless music, far away in the 
unfathomed depths of this wide sea. 

The great subject here brought before us is the 
reconciling influence of the blood of the Redeemer's 
cross ; and, in examining the words of the text, it is 
48 



THE ATONEMENT. 



49 



needful to remember that they stand in intimate con- 
nection with those that go before them, so that the 
phrase, " it pleased the Father," must be supplied from 
the beginning of the 19th verse, and read in imme- 
diate relation to the statement made in the 20th, 
thus: "It pleased the Father, having made peace 
through the blood of his cross, by him to reconcile all 
things unto himself." The whole reconciliation is 
thus traced up to its source in the pleasure of the 
Father. It originated in his love ; it emanated from 
his heart. He did not give his Son in order that he 
might love the world, but because he loved it, and 
because he desired that the world might love him. 
Now in working toward that result he began by " mak- 
ing peace through the blood of the cross " of his Son, 
and that having been accomplished, he goes on, through 
the Son, whose blood has made peace, to reconcile all 
things unto himself. In the text, therefore, as thus 
analyzed, we have the influence of the blood of the 
cross as it respects God, as it respects man, and as it 
respects that class of intelligences whom the apostle 
has here designated " things in heaven." To each of 
these let me endeavor briefly to direct your attention. 

I. We have here, first, the influence of the blood of 
the cross as it respects God. " It pleased the Father, 
having made peace through the blood of his cross." 
Now, very evidently, the " peace " here cannot mean 
the actual reconciliation of men to himself, for it is 
represented as something which he had made prior to, 
and with the distinct design of afterwards effecting 
that reconciliation. It was not " peace " with man 
which God made through the blood of Christ, for, as 
we learn here, the reconciliation to himself of " things 
in earth " by God, is something different from, and 
3 



50 



THE ATONEMENT. 



indeed consequent upon, the peace which was effected 
on the cross by the atoning sacrifice of Christ. But 
if it were not peace with man that was made thus 
through the blood, it must have been " peace " that 
looked toward God himself, for he is the only other 
party to the existing enmity. The conclusion, there- 
fore, is, that Paul is speaking of the peace-making 
effect which the blood of the cross produced, shall I 
say, on God himself ? 

Now what precisely was that ? Clearly it could not 
be a change in God himself, or in his purposes, for he 
is immutable. Just as clearly it could not be any al- 
teration in his feelings in reference to sin, for that is 
and must always be " the abominable thing which he 
hates." Still less could this peace be the purchase of 
his love for man, for, as we have already seen, the 
whole purpose of reconciliation sprang out of the 
pleasure of the Father, and the atonement is the con- 
sequence and not the cause of the divine love to men. 
What then is this peace ? I answer, It is the effect 
produced by the death of Christ upon the moral gov- 
ernment of God, so that it became possible for him 
righteously to forgive the believing sinner, and re- 
ceive again into his family the returning prodigal. 
The offering up of himself by Christ upon the cross 
for sinners of mankind, so satisfied the claims of the 
divine law, and magnified the honor of the divine jus- 
tice that on the ground of that propitiation God could 
be at once merciful and just in the pardoning of 
sin. The peace here spoken of, therefore, is peace 
with the law and justice of God, and that, as we gather 
from the phraseology of the text, had to be made be- 
fore it was possible for God to reconcile any sinner to 
himself, even "by Christ." 

Nor is this the only place in which our apostle 



THE ATONEMENT. 



51 



has made such an assertion. The same thing comes 
out when, in writing to the Romans, he speaks of 
"Christ Jesus, whom God hath set forth to be a 
propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare 
his righteousness, that he might be just, and the 
justifier of him that belie veth," and though it is not 
directly expressed, the same idea is involved in the 
declaration that " God made him to be sin for us who 
knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness 
of God in him." So also the apostle John alleges 
that Jesus Christ is " the propitiation for our sins, and 
not for ours only, but for the sins of the whole world," 
and in the immediate neighborhood of that affirmation 
declares that " if we confess our sins, God is faithful 
and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from 
all unrighteousness." Now, if we have been correct 
in our reasoning here, from the statements of the New 
Testament, and if the death of Christ had a propitia- 
tory influence Godward, such that it made it possible 
for God righteously to justify a believing sinner, then 
two inferences may be drawn having a direct bearing 
on some prevalent opinions on this important subject : 
1. It will follow, first, that they are greatly in error 
who maintain that the only purpose of the death of 
Christ was to reconcile man to God, by the simple 
manifestation of the divine love. Now here, of course, 
we admit, nay, contend, that the death of Christ is a 
manifestation of love. Never, indeed, was there any 
act in which love was so conspicuous. But there 
must have been something else in that death than an 
expression of love, otherwise there could not have 
been any love in it at all. To die upon a cross is a 
dreadful ordeal to undergo ; but the penitent thief 
died upon a cross as well as Christ ; why, then, do I 
speak of Christ's death as a manifestation of love to me. 



52 



THE ATONEMENT. 



while I have no such idea regarding him who hung by 
his side ? The answer is apparent : It is because Christ 
endured that death in order that the way might be 
opened up for my forgiveness as a righteous act by 
Jehovah. But take away this result of Christ's death 
as affecting God's law and justice, and what, I ask, is 
the crucifixion of Christ to me more than the death of 
any man ? Where was the love in it to the human 
race, if it did not make that possible which otherwise 
was impossible, namely, the salvation of the sinner 
righteously ? It is time to be done with sentimental- 
ism on this subject, and to affirm that self-sacrifice, 
merely as such, and without reference to the object 
for which the sacrifice is made, has in it nothing that 
is either laudable or lovable. It is rashness and it 
may be suicide for one to leap over the bulwarks of the 
ship far out on the wide Atlantic ; but if one have 
fallen overboard, and another leaps to his assistance, 
and with the arm of a strong swimmer bears him up 
until he is fairly rescued, that is heroism. What is 
the principle of the difference between the two ? It is 
in the fact that in the one case there was no object to 
be gained, while in the other there was a life to be 
saved. Now, let us apply this illustration to the mat- 
ter in hand : If there were an object to be secured 
by the death of Christ, which could not otherwise 
have been attained ; if, for example, that death satisfied 
law (even as in the illustration I have just used the 
swimmer satisfied the law of gravitation), so that sin- 
ners might be honorably pardoned, then there was the 
manifestation in it of infinite love. But if there was 
no necessity for that death on other grounds, then 
there was no love to sinners in the dying. Hence 
they who deny that Christ's death is in any sense a 
satisfaction of divine justice, or has any effect on the 



THE ATONEMENT. 



53 



divine side, or was in any way necessary to secure 
human forgiveness, do also eliminate from it that very 
element of love on which they so delight to expatiate. 

The truth is that there are two elements in the 
cross, each of which is indispensable to the presence of 
the other, and both of which are necessary to give the 
sinner peace. These are love and righteousness, and 
neither ought to be allowed to overshadow or eclipse the 
other. We must not exalt the love without making men- 
tion of the righteousness, for, as we have seen, if there 
were no righteousness making the death imperative 
in order to the salvation of men, it is hard to see how 
there could be love in the dying. But neither must 
we exalt the righteousness in such a way as to obscure 
the love. In the one case the gospel will be made to 
wear an aspect of indifference to evil, and men may 
fall into the mistake of saying, " Let us continue in sin 
that grace may abound." In the other the gospel will 
be made to assume an appearance of terror which will 
cause men exceedingly to fear and quake. But when 
we give each element its proper proportion, the love 
attracts to God and the righteousness restrains from 
sin. Let us hold fast therefore by them both, and say 
regarding them, " Those things which God hath joined 
together let no man put asunder." 

2. But if our reasoning regarding the peace spoken 
of in my text be correct, it follows further that they 
are greatly in error who make little of the death of 
Christ. There is a tendency among many in these 
days to ignore, if not indeed to depreciate, " the dying 
of the Lord Jesus." They tell us that "blood" has 
no meaning for them. They affirm that the term " sac- 
rifice is a figure which might have significance for 
the Jews, who were brought up under a system in 
which sacrifices were common ; but that it has no sig- 



54 



THE ATONEMENT. 



nificance for us, and therefore, as an illustration is 
worthless when it has ceased to illustrate. They allege 
that it would be just as well for us to say that we are 
saved by Christ, as that we are saved by his death. 
Now it would be easy to show the superficialness of 
all such assertions. For example, was Abel a Jew ? 
Had he been brought up under a long-continued and 
venerable sacrificial system when he brought to Jeho- 
vah the firstlings of his flock ? And were they merely 
Jews, or was it the whole race of men that God meant 
to educate into the truth that " without shedding of 
blood there is no remission of sins," when "he had 
respect to Abel and to his offering, but to Cain and to 
his offering he had not respect " ? Again, was it not 
to a Gentile church the apostle was writing when he 
said, " In Him we have redemption through His blood, 
even the forgiveness of sins," and when he affirmed 
that he was determined "to know nothing among them 
but Jesus Christ and him crucified'"? Why this em- 
phasis on the crucified ? Was it not because glorious 
as Jesus Christ was as incarnate God, he yet could 
have no saving relationship to men if he had not died 
for them ? But what need I more ? Refer to the verse 
which I have this morning taken as my text, and you 
will see at a glance that in the estimation of the 
inspired apostle this blood of the cross was the 
means of making any effort at reconciliation, even 
through Christ, possible. So, they who despise the 
cross and depreciate the blood of him who died 
thereon for human guilt, are out of sympathy with 
the great apostle, and are guilty of trampling under 
foot the blood of the covenant as an unholy thing. 
Turn away, I beseech you, from that gospel in which 
there is no cross ! Let no philosophy, falsely so 
called, beguile you from the truth that " in Christ we 



THE ATONEMENT. 



55 



have redemption through his blood, even the forgive- 
ness of sins." Let no vague declamation or gilded 
rhetoric commend to you a system which makes the 
cross a mere incident, not to say accident, in re- 
demption, instead of its grand procuring cause ! " The 
blood is the life " — and when its peace-speaking effi- 
cacy is ignored, the life of the ministry, the power of 
the pulpit, ay, and the abiding peace of the heart also 
will disappear. 

II. We come now in the second place to consider 
the influence of the blood of the cross as it respects 
man. The phrase " things in earth " may perhaps be 
taken in a more comprehensive sense, and the apostle 
here may be alluding to that of which he speaks else- 
where, when he affirms that the whole creation "is 
waiting for the redemption," and " groaning and tra- 
vailing in pain together until now." But, while the 
reconciliation may extend thus literally to all " things 
in earth," it can do so only through mankind. The 
curse passed through man upon the earth, and the 
blessing must do the same. We shall not, therefore, 
narrow the meaning of the words before us, if we take 
them as primarily applicable to man. 

Now here the question becomes, How are men 
through Christ reconciled to God? We have seen 
how, by the blood of the cross, God's justice is hon- 
ored even in the forgiveness of the believing sinner. 
But more than the pardon of the guilty one is needed 
to a perfect coming together between God and man, 
for sin has not only broken the divine law, but also 
filled the sinner's heart with enmity against Jehovah ; 
and hence, even after the law has been satisfied, it is 
requisite that this enmity shall be removed, and that 
love and confidence shall take its place. Now, just 



56 



THE ATONEMENT. 



here comes in the reconciling influence of Christ — for 
through his perfect atonement for sin he has secured 
the agency of the Holy Spirit for the regeneration of 
the hearts of men ; and in the story of his love and 
death he has furnished that Divine Being with the 
most effective instrument for working upon the hu- 
man soul. 

He has, I say, by his atoning death secured the 
agency of the Holy Spirit for the regeneration of 
men's hearts. When the soldier pierced the side of 
Jesus, there came forth blood and water ; the blood 
the symbol of atonement, and the water the emblem 
of the Holy Ghost. These two are the complements 
of each other — the one without the other would be 
ineffective. Without the atonement there could have 
been no descent of the Holy Spirit; without the 
Holy Spirit, the atonement would not have availed to 
change the disposition of men in reference to God. 
The atonement satisfies God's justice ; the Spirit re- 
moves the enmity of the sinner's heart. The atone- 
ment makes amends for the wrong we had done to the 
divine law ; the Spirit repairs the injury which by our 
sins we have inflicted upon our own souls. No power 
but his can remedy the ruin which we have wrought 
upon ourselves ; and Christ, by his death on our be- 
half, has secured his agency for that purpose. An old 
legend tells that during the hours of the Saviour's 
Passion a dove alighted, to rest awhile upon his cross. 
The story may be fable, but there is a truth lying be- 
neath it as a symbol, for, as Keble has put it in his 
Christian Year, 

"The Spirit must still the darkling deep; 
The dove must settle on the cross ; 
Else we should all sin on, or sleep, 

With Christ in view, — turning our gain to loss." 



THE ATONEMENT. 



5? 



But further, the reconciliation of man to God is 
through Christ, because the story of his love and 
death is the great instrument which the Spirit em- 
ploys in removing from the human heart its enmity 
against God. It is the proof to which he points for 
the assertion that God loves men. All along the sin- 
ner has been misjudging God. He has been count- 
ing him an hard master, and has been harboring evil 
thoughts against him. He has misunderstood his 
greatest kindnesses, and misinterpreted his richest 
mercies ; so that even the blessings of God have only 
offered new occasion for his doing him dishonor. But 
when by the Holy Ghost his eyes are opened to see 
that God has actually given up his own Son to death 
on the behalf of sinners, he discovers that he has been 
doing him the foulest wrong, and he returns in peni- 
tence and affection to his Father's house. The cross 
of Christ, as thus illuminated by the Holy Spirit, is 
the meeting-place between the sinner and his God. 
All this way the Father has come running to receive 
his prodigal ; and when the son sees the love which 
the Father there has manifested, he exchanges the 
disposition of a servant for that of a child, the enmity 
of a rebel for the affection of a son. The love has 
broken him down. The infinite sacrifice at which his 
pardon has been secured has constrained him to make 
himself a sacrifice to God, and he is drawn by the 
divine magnetism of the cross to follow after that holi- 
ness " without which no man shall see the Lord." 

The love of God as manifested in the life and death 
of Christ for sinners is thus the great instrument the 
Spirit uses in the conversion of men. Nay, it is the 
only instrument which he employs. You have heard 
the story of the first Moravian missionaries in Green- 
land : how for long years they labored in the inculca- 
3* 



58 



THE ATONEMENT. 



tion of abstract principles, and saw no fruit, and how, 
when one of their number was reading the story of the 
Saviour's death, he saw the tears stand in his hearers' 
eyes, and heard them cry, " Why did you not tell us 
this before ? Tell us it again." And similar results may 
be seen at home ; for if we will only look around and ask 
ourselves who they are whose preaching is most large- 
ly blessed, and on whose lips thronging multitudes 
hang with the most eager attention, we shall find that 
they are those who most simply and earnestly pro- 
claim salvation through the love of Him who died for 
us upon the cross. It was well said by Angell James, 
himself one of the most successful soul-gatherers the 
Church has ever seen, " Raise me but a barn under 
the shadow of St. Paul's Cathedral, and give me a man 
who shall preach Christ crucified with something of 
the energy which the all-inspiring theme is calculated 
to awaken, and you shall see it crowded with warm 
hearts ; while in the statelier building hard by, if that 
gospel be not preached there, the matins and vespers 
shall be chanted only to the statues of the mighty 
dead." Brethren, this witness is true, and if we would 
draw men to God we must seek to have these two 
essential elements of attraction — first the presence and 
power of the Holy Spirit, and second, the faithful 
preaching of the cross of Christ — as the manifesta- 
tion of God's love, in the securing of righteous for- 
giveness to the believing sinner. The honoring of the 
Holy Ghost in the closet, and the uplifting of the cross 
in the pulpit — give us these again as they were com- 
bined on the day of Pentecost, and we shall see again 
thousands converted in a day. 

III. But I hasten to glance for a few moments, in the 
third place, at the influence of the blood of the cross as 



THE ATONEMENT. 



59 



it respects those who are here styled "things in heaven." 
And here, the first thing to be settled is, what these 
things are. Some would interpret the phrase of the 
whole intelligent universe, and speak of the inhabi- 
tants of other worlds as interested in the grand results 
of the Atonement. And doubtless if there be such in- 
telligences, they must be ultimately interested in the 
cross. The plain of Marathon was of small account 
in the Morea, until the battle was fought there which 
secured the liberty of Greece. The field of Waterloo 
was little regarded among those of Europe, until the 
conflict was fought there which crushed the ambition 
of Napoleon. And so our earth, little though she be 
among the countless worlds that gem the midnight 
sky, is yet exalted in importance, as the battle-ground 
of the universe, whereon sin and Satan have been van- 
quished by Him who died upon the cross. In the 
success of that conflict every holy being is interested, 
and so, if there be inhabitants in those other planets, 
I should certainly not think of excluding them from 
the phrase before me. But still I believe that the 
special reference of the words is to the angelic host, 
who are elsewhere represented as most interested 
spectators of the great work of Redemption, and who 
in the Book of Revelation are spoken of as joining in 
the song, " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to re- 
ceive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and 
honor, and glory, and blessing." 

But how, it may be asked, can they be said to be 
reconciled to God through Christ ? Now, in answer 
to this inquiry, it must be admitted that, as the angels 
have never sinned, we cannot use the word " recon- 
cile " in reference to them, in the same precise sense 
as we employ it when we speak of man. But the 
great work of human redemption through the death 



60 THE ATONEMENT. 

of Christ has let them see farther into the heart of 
God than they ever saw before. Thns it has brought 
them nearer to him, and given them a higher de- 
gree of blessedness. Now such an increase in their 
blessedness may be called a " reconciliation," in com- 
parison with the greater distance at which they for- 
merly stood from him, and the lower degree of hap- 
piness which they formerly possessed. Sinless though 
they were from the first, the work of Christ on behalf 
of men has opened up to them new visions of Jeho- 
vah's glory, and lifted them up into a higher fellow- 
ship with him ; and so, though they cannot be said in 
the very strictest sense to be reconciled, the word 
may be employed regarding them in a lower and less 
absolute signification. The meaning of the verse may 
thus be given in the words of Alford : " All creation 
subsists in Christ, all creation, therefore, is affected by 
his act of propitiation ; sinful creation is in the strict- 
est sense reconciled from being at enmity ; sinless 
creation, ever at a distance from his unapproachable 
purity, is lifted into nearer participation and higher 
glorification of him, and is thus reconciled, not in the 
strictest sense, yet in a very intelligible and allowable 
one." 

As we contemplate these transcendent results, how 
does the glory of the cross grow upon us ! O that 
wondrous cross ! the meeting-place and reconciler of 
so many opposites ! Here God's mercy and God's 
justice are seen in conspicuous harmony. Here God 
and man are reconciled. Here man and man embrace 
each other and become eternal brethren ! Here earth 
is bound to heaven, and they together are drawn 
nearer to God. O wondrous cross on which the Prince 
of Life did shed his blood ! The brightest majesty of 
created excellence grows pale before thy blaze of glory I 



THE ATONEMENT. 



61 



Thus have I attempted to bring before you some of 
the truth contained in this comprehensive text. That 
I have not brought more has been owing to the ex- 
cessive brightness of the subject which dazzled my 
eyes as I tried to gaze steadily upon it. Enough, 
however, has been said to give us a nobler estimate of 
the cross, and of Him who died thereon for the sins 
of men. Its full glory and His it will require eternity 
to unfold, and haply, as we commune together before 
the throne regarding it, we may marvel at the poor 
stammering fashion in which it has been spoken of 
to-day. 

I cannot let you go, however, without giving utter- 
ance to two deeply important inferences from this 
whole subject. 

1. All obstacles have been taken out of the way of 
the sinner's salvation, so far as God is concerned. He 
is reconciling men to himself, and if they are not 
reconciled, it must be because they are unwilling to 
be so. He draws men to him, he does not drag them. 
And if any do not go to him it must be because they 
resist his overtures. This is how it comes, that though 
he is reconciling all, all are not reconciled to him, for 
he does not demolish human freedom, but leaves the t 
matter in the last resort to the individual will. O sin- 
ner ! there is nothing to hinder thy salvation now, but 
thine own want of inclination. If a man is not saved, 
it is not because Christ's work has been imperfectly 
performed, or because his sins are too great for 
Christ's blood to wash away, or because the aid of 
God's Spirit is denied him ; but it is because he will 
not come unto Christ, that he may have life. This is the 
great, the only hindrance. The whole question is, " Art 
thou willing to be reconciled to God through Christ ? " 
Oh, that dreadful power of willing which God has 



62 



The atonement. 



conferred upon us, and how inconceivably awful the 
thought that eternity depends thus upon our choice ! 
We cannot rid ourselves of this responsibility; it links 
itself on to our very being ; you cannot choose for me, 
nor I for you, and eternity depends upon it. There it 
hangs, O sinner ! trembling now in the balance of thy 
will. What is thy choice to be ? 

2. Finally, if thou passest from earth unreconciled, 
there is no salvation for thee. Observe, there is no 
mention here of " things under the earth." In another 
passage, where Paul is speaking of the unlimited su- 
premacy of Jesus, he includes "things under the 
earth ; " but very significant is the omission here, for 
the cross, which on earth is a magnet to attract the 
sinner to his God, will there repel the condemned one 
further from his presence. The cross, which here 
holds open for men the door of mercy, will there be- 
come the bolt that bars it against the impenitent. 
Whilst then thou art on earth, O sinner ! come to the 
cross, and there " acquaint thyself with God, and be 
at peace with him." " As though God did beseech 
you by us, we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye recon- 
ciled to God." 



MISPLACED ANXIETY. 



John xxi. 22.— " What is that to thee ? Follow thou me." 

What a unique individuality the Four Evangelists 
have given to the Apostle Peter ! No matter which 
of them describes him, we recognize the same impul- 
sive, wayward, impetuous man : at one moment trying 
the patience of his friends by his rash and blundering 
forwardness, at another extorting their admiration by 
the boldness of his utterances, or awakening their 
sympathy by the sincerity of his sorrow for his faults. 
He was " the irrepressible " among the twelve. He 
thought aloud, and those things which more prudent 
or reserved persons would have kept to themselves 
he spoke right out, without taking time to consider 
their bearing either on himself or others. Like a gun 
which has an awkward tendency to go off prematurely, 
he was forever exploding into some expression of en- 
thusiasm or some act of folly. Scarcely has he been 
commended by the Saviour for his noble confession, 
when he is met by the reproof, " Get thee behind me, 
Satan ! " for suggesting that the cross was unworthy 
of the Christ. Hardly has he begun his walk upon 
the waters, when he cries in the helplessness of a 
sinking one, " Lord save me, I perish ; " while so 
swiftly did his pendulum soul swing from one extreme 
to another, that the words "Thou shalt never wash 
my feet " had not well crossed his lips before he added, 
"Lord, not my feet only, but my hands and my head." 
A similarly rapid alternation from one extreme to 

63 



64 



MISPLACED ANXIETY. 



another is seen in his denial of the Lord, which came 
so soon after his protestation of his willinghood to lay 
down his life for the Redeemer's sake, and which was 
followed in its turn by that violent outburst of repent- 
ance when "he went out and wept bitterly." 

Yet with all his imperfections Peter had the love of 
those who were his daily companions. His faults were 
on the surface, and were seen at a glance ; his good 
properties were a hidden well, out of whose depths 
his friends continually drew, and by whose waters 
they were revived and refreshed. Hence, in spite of 
the blemishes by which he was characterized, his fel- 
low-disciples held him in high honor, and it was in 
no spirit of jealousy toward him that John wrote the 
touching appendix to his Gospel from which my text 
is taken. Rather it was added to the main narrative 
to show to all succeeding generations how thoroughly 
Peter was restored by the Saviour to the position 
which his sin had forfeited ; and to commend thereby 
the riches of that grace by which, after so great a fall, 
he had been so completely and so lovingly re-estab- 
lished among the apostles. 

But how like Peter it all is ! Even if his name had 
not been mentioned we could not have doubted that 
it was he who cast himself off so impetuously into the 
sea, in his eager haste to greet the Lord, whom he 
saw upon the shore. Who but he could have made 
thrice that ardent answer to the inquiry, " Lovest thou 
me?" And after he had heard the terrible prediction 
of the manner of his death, who but he could have 
asked with an affection for John that swallowed up 
all consideration for himself, "Lord, and what shall 
this man do ? " Hence to one who has intelligently 
studied the disposition of Peter as it comes out in 
the other portions of the gospel history, this evan- 



MISPLACED ANXIETY. 



65 



gelic epilogue carries the stamp of truthfulness on its 
very face, for it is the son of Jonas all over ! 

Not less remarkably, however, does the individual- 
ity of Jesus stand out in this wonderful chapter. The 
revelation of his presence through the miracle of the 
fishes ; the searching character of his appeals to Peter ; 
the touching care for the lambs of his flock which 
comes out in the repeated commission which he gives 
to his servant ; the tender pathos that trembles through 
his description of the manner in which the apostle was 
to die; and above all, perhaps, the firm faithfulness 
by which he repressed the too-eager curiosity of his 
disciple, all reveal to us the presence of Jesus, so that, 
though his name is not mentioned by himself, we in- 
stinctively exclaim with John, " It is the Lord." 

The question which I have selected as my text at 
this time, and which is thus equally related to the 
characteristics of Peter and of the Lord, is full of 
profitable suggestiveness. Our Master encouraged his 
followers to come to him with all their difficulties. 
But he exercised a divine discretion in the answers 
which he gave. Sometimes, as in the case of their 
inquiry relative to the origin of the blindness of him 
whose eyes were opened at the pool of Siloam, he gave 
them a direct reply, which corrected misapprehension 
and removed error. Sometimes, as in the instance of 
parabolic interpretation, he entered into the fullest 
explanations with them. But when their questions 
sprang out of an idle curiosity, or from the mere de- 
sire to have some ingenious speculation settled, he 
turned them aside either with some quiet reproof or 
with some practical admonition. Thus, when they 
asked him, " Are there few that be saved?" he gave 
no direct reply, but said, " Strive ye to enter in at the 
strait gate ; " and when they inquired, " Lord, wilt 



66 



MISPLACED ANXIETY. 



thou at this time restore the kingdom to Israel ? " he 
made answer, " It is not for you to know the times or 
the seasons which the Father hath put in his own 
power." In like manner, when Peter wished to know 
something of John's future career, he said, not in flip- 
pancy, or by way of making a smart retort, but in 
solemnity and earnestness, " If I will that he should 
tarry till I come, what is that to thee ? Follow thou 
me." Now beneath all these answers there lies this 
one principle, namely, that we should not allow the 
difficulty of questions, for the solution of which we 
are not responsible, to keep us from doing the plain 
duty that is at our hands. Here is a clear obligation 
resting upon us to " follow Christ," to " strive to enter 
in at the strait gate." These things have to be done 
by us if we would be saved ourselves, and so it is 
folly to let our minds be preoccupied with the settle- 
ment of difficulties which we never can solve, and for 
the existence of which we are not in any sense ac- 
countable, and thus incapacitate ourselves for the 
great work and business of our lives. The practical 
which lies before us, which we can accomplish, and 
for the accomplishment of which we shall be held re- 
sponsible, that is the important thing for us. The 
speculative, the unrevealed, the insoluble, that belongs 
to God ; and if we would have the greatest enjoyment 
in our lives, and make the best out of them for our- 
selves and others, we shall leave that to God, and be 
content to work in our own little portion of the pat- 
tern of history, in ignorance of its bearing upon the 
rest, and in faith that if we follow Christ it will all 
come right at last. 

In my student days I had a very intimate friend, 
who was pre-eminently successful in gaining prizes 
by written competition. So surely as he went in for 



MISPLACED ANXIETY. 



67 



any particular subject, whether classics, philosophy, or 
mathematics, he came out first. In the general work 
of the classes and in the recitations he did not appear 
to ^be any better than his neighbors ; but at a written 
examination he was "facile princeps" At the end of 
our course I asked him to explain this to me, and he 
revealed his secret thus : " You take the questions in 
the paper as they come ; hence, if the first question is 
a very hard one, you spend, perhaps, the whole time 
allotted for the paper upon that; but when I get a 
paper into my hand, I read over all the questions, 
pick out those that I see I can answer at once, and 
then having disposed of them, and made sure that 
they will count, I go on to the harder ones. I pass 
through the plain ones to the difficult, and I take care 
always to do the one before I attempt the other." 
There was great wisdom in the plan, and in the college 
of life more of us, I imagine, would come out prizemen 
at the last, if we were to let the hard things of specu- 
lation alone, at least until we have performed the plain 
duties which our Saviour has set before us. But if 
this be so with the " hard " things, how much more 
does it hold of those things which are insoluble by 
mere human reason. Yet how many there are among 
us who make difficulties, for the existence of which 
they are not responsible, and for the removal of which 
they are incompetent, a reason either for their refusing 
to follow Christ, or for following him only afar off. Let 
me illustrate. 

I. Take first the mysteries that lie outside of reve- 
lation altogether. It is a common impression, indeed, 
that it is only when we open the Bible that we come 
into contact with difficulty. But that is not the case. 
Bather, I think, it could be shown that many of tho3e 



68 



MISPLACED ANXIETY. 



things in revelation which perplex men have already 
emerged in another form in nature and providence. But 
whether that be so or not, it is beyond question that 
in life we are surrounded with mystery. There is — 
darkest of all and brooding over all — that great enigma 
the existence of evil under the government of a wise, 
a holy, and a loving God. Now revelation did not 
make that difficulty. It found it already existing; 
and while it shows us a way of escape from evil, it 
does not attempt to solve the mystery of its existence. 
Neither can we solve it. But then we are not asked 
to do so, and we are not responsible for it. It was there 
when we awoke to mental and moral consciousness, 
and we found ourselves also tainted with its leprosy. 
How it came there is not our affair ; but how we may 
rid ourselves of its defilement, that is for you and me 
the question of questions. Just there, however, the 
Lord Jesus comes with his salvation. He shows us 
how through faith in him as the all-sufficient sacrifice 
for sin, and through following him as the great teacher 
and Lord of our souls, we may be delivered from evil 
and its consequences. Now in these circumstances 
what madness it would be if we should turn away from 
the remedy which he has provided, and waste our 
lives in the fruitless endeavor to find out the origin of 
the disease. When we have extinguished the fire, it 
will then be in order to hold an inquest for the discov- 
ery of the manner in which it originated ; but while 
it is blazing away, " All hands to the fire-engines ! " that 
we may stop its devastation. When we have rescued 
the drowning man, it may be proper enough to exam- 
ine how he came to be in the water ; but our pres- 
ent duty is to get him out. Therefore let us throw 
him a rope, or a life-buoy, or put out for him in a boat. 
So, to obtain deliverance from the evil that is in our 



MISPLACED ANXIETY. 



69 



own hearts, and then to banish it from the world 
through the power of the Lord J esus, is onr first duty. 
Let us attend to that with undivided souls. If we can 
do nothing else with the question of the entrance of 
sin into the universe, we can at least let it alone. 
It is not our matter, and we can say regarding it, 
" What is that to me ? I follow Christ." 

Then akin to that great difficulty which I have just 
alluded to, is the perplexity which in many minds is 
occasioned by the anomalies not unfrequently pre- 
sented by God's providence. Generally speaking in- 
deed we can have no hesitation in admitting that God's 
government of the human race is moral, that is to say, 
that it is carried on in such a way as to give prominence 
to the great attributes of justice, truth, and righteous- 
ness. And yet the prosperity of the wicked is by no 
means unknown, and the adversity and suffering of the 
good are not things entirely unheard of. Nay, some- 
times as one looks around it seems as if, in this mat- 
ter, character were of no importance ; and if he have 
been striving unsuccessfully to gain prosperity with a 
good conscience he may be tempted to say, " Yerily I 
have cleansed my heart in vain, and washed my hands 
in innocency." 

That old debate which waxed so hot between Job 
and his friends in the far land of Uz, has emerged 
anew in some form or other in every individual heart 
and in every successive generation. It has never 
received fuller or more exhaustive treatment than it 
had at the hands of these Eastern sages. Yet virtu- 
ally they left it where they found it. Jehovah ap- 
peared to them at the close asserting his sovereignty, 
and claiming his right to veil himself in clouds and 
darkness. He asked them to confide in his wisdom, 
and to leave the matter in his hands. And what far^ 



70 



MISPLACED ANXIETY. 



ther can we get than that ? We are not responsible 
for the government of the world. It is not ours to sit 
upon the throne. We may well leave the vindication 
of God's workings to God himself. He will take care 
of his own honor. Meanwhile for us there is the low- 
lier province of working out our own salvation with 
fear and trembling, under the assurance that " it is 
God who worketh in us, to will and to do of his good 
pleasure." To us the gospel has been preached, and 
for the use we make of that we shall be held to account. 
To us the Saviour has said, "Follow me," and for the 
answer we give to that earnest call we shall be respon- 
sible. We cannot unravel the perplexities of provi- 
dence, but we can see the way of life which Christ has 
made so plain that no one can mistake it ; shall we 
then turn away from the pressing duty of the present 
state, and the open gate which Jesus has set before us, 
and give up our energies to such fruitless quests as 
that which Solomon has described in his book of Ec- 
clesiastes, or such profitless philosophy as that of him 
who would bind the millstone of fatalism round the 
neck of humanity? No ! no! Let us work in the light 
we have, little though it may be ; and as we follow it, 
we shall be led to Him who is the fountain of light. 
"Then shall we know, if we follow on to know the 
Lord." 

Yery dark, indeed, many occurrences around us seem 
to be. The crowded vessel freighted with trusting pas- 
sengers goes to pieces, amid the fog, on the ragged reef, 
and hundreds are hurried to a watery grave ; the little 
child, scarcely out of the laughing glee of infancy, is 
battered to death by a brutal ruffian ; the devout wor- 
shippers in a crowded church are caught in the arms 
of the devouring fire, and some are burned and some 
are trampled to death. These are a few, taken almost 



MISPLACED ANXIETY. 



71 



at random, from recent events, and as one muses on 
them he becomes completely lost. " These things hap- 
pening under a God of mercy and love and justice ! 
Why do they occur?" So we cry, and then there 
comes the answer, " What is that to thee ? Follow 
thou Christ." Be sure that in the long run God will 
be " his own interpreter, and he will make it plain ; " 
meanwhile follow Christ. The love revealed through 
him will help you to believe that even in these dread- 
ful things somehow love is hidden; and the spirit 
which Christ imparts will stir you up to sympathize 
with and relieve all suffering and sorrow with which 
you come into contact. Do not brood over the mys- 
tery. Follow rather in the footsteps of Him who came 
to earth, not to make all perplexities plain, but to 
mitigate the miseries, and soothe the sorrows, and 
remove the sin of men. Turn your face to the Sun of 
Eighteousness, and the mystery shadow will fall be- 
hind you and cease to trouble you. 

II. But let us see how the principle of my text may 
be applied, secondly, to those mysteries which spring 
out of revelation. To the superficial thinker it seems 
anomalous that in a communication made by God to 
men any difficulties should present themselves. But 
when we go more deeply into the subject, it will ap- 
pear that mystery is inseparable from a revelation 
given by a higher to a lower intelligence. Your child 
asks you for an explanation of something which has 
puzzled him, and you give him an answer suited to 
his comprehension ; but the result is that your reply, 
though it be perfectly correct and intelligible from 
your stand-point, has started in his mind a whole 
crop of new perplexities which you cannot enable him 
to understand. The greater light which joxk have 



72 



MISPLACED ANXIETY. 



given him has brought him at so many more points 
into contact with the darkness, that he is in some 
respects more distressed than before, and begins to 
understand the wise man's words, " He that increas- 
eth knowledge increaseth sorrow." Now something 
like that occurs in our reception of the revelation 
which God has given us. The cry of our humanity 
was this, "How shall man be just with God? " and in 
reply God has pointed us to Him whom he " hath set 
forth to be a propitiation for sin through faith in his 
blood, to declare his righteousness, that he might be 
just, and yet the justifier of him that belie veth." He 
hath shown us his own eternal Son in human nature, 
bearing the sin of the world, and offering himself a 
ransom for men, and he has proclaimed that " whoso- 
ever believeth in him shall not perish, but have ever- 
lasting life." It is a precious declaration, giving hope 
and joy and life to the believer ; but how many new 
difficulties it has started ! at how many more points 
has it confronted us with the unknown and the un- 
knowable ! Thus it brings us face to face with the 
mystery of the Trinity. It suggests to us the great 
problem of the Incarnation. It starts within us such 
questions as these : How can there be this unity in 
trinity ? How could the infinite God tabernacle in a 
human body ? Wherein was the necessity for the suf- 
fering and death of him who took upon him to de- 
liver men ? What was there in the death of Christ, on 
our behalf, that specially affected the government of 
God and the consciences of men ? How can the Spirit 
of God work in and on a human soul, without doing 
violence to that freedom which is the crowning glory 
of its constitution ? 

These and a hundred other similar inquiries crowd 
upon us as we read the Gospels and Epistles of the 



MISPLACED ANXIETY. 



73 



New Testament, and there is not one in this audi- 
ence, come to years of maturity, who has not at some 
stage of his mental and spiritual development been 
arrested by them. Nay, perhaps, there are some 
among us who have never got away from them, 
and who, caught in the meshes of the perplexities 
which they have occasioned, are to-day precisely 
where they were years ago. They have not "fol- 
lowed Christ," they have not joined his Church, they 
have not begun to grow in true nobility and holi- 
ness of character, because they have not been able 
to thread their way through the labyrinth of dif- 
ficulties in which such questionings have involved 
them. 

Now how shall we deal with such anxious ones? 
I answer, in the spirit of the principle which under- 
lies my text. These questionings are not in our 
department. They have reference to matters which 
belong to God. "We are not responsible for them. 
It may be that it is just as impossible for God him- 
self to make them plain to us, as it is for us to render 
something, which is incomprehensible to our child 
intelligible to him. Still, as we ask our child to con- 
fide in us, he asks us to confide in him, and shall we 
not trust him, especially when all these mysteries 
respect his nature and actings, and have in them noth- 
ing that can prevent us from doing our plain and 
simple duty ? It is not required of us to understand 
the infinite. Only God can comprehend God. "What 
we are commanded to do is to follow Christ. That 
is within our power. That is on the plane of our 
daily finite existence. That, therefore, we ought to 
do at once, and with all our hearts. " Secret things 
belong unto God, but unto us belong the things which 
are revealed." Let us only be certain that the gos- 
4 



74 



MISPLACED ANXIETY. 



pel is from God — and I see not how any one can 
calmly and candidly investigate the character and 
work of Jesus Christ without coming to that con- 
clusion — then we may safely venture on the Lord 
Jesus for our salvation, and follow him as our guide, 
leaving all these curious and perplexing problems 
to him to whom they truly belong. We may accept 
his statements in his Word. We ought indeed to 
take them on trust from him, and our confidence in him 
ought to silence within us every misgiving. There is 
but one way out of a labyrinth, when we have become 
hopelessly involved, and that is to put our hand in 
that of a guide, and blindly follow his leading. And 
there is only one way out of these spiritual perplexi- 
ties to which I have been referring. That way is to 
have confidence in Christ, and take all that he says in 
childlike faitho We who have been living, as we trust, 
in closest fellowship with him for years, and who have 
found him to be the inspirer of all that is best and 
noblest in us, know no more about the solution of 
these mysteries than you do now, or than we did our- 
selves at first. But we know him better, and our fuller 
knowledge of him has led to greater mental composure 
in regard to them, because we are persuaded that 
what he says is true. Like Martha we may not be 
able to comprehend the "how" of everything that he 
has affirmed, but we are prepared to receive anything 
from him, and when men taunt us with believing what 
we do not understand, we make reply, " Oh, yes, but 
we have a good reason for our belief, for He who died 
for us has said it is so, and we know that he is true." 
Try this plan, dear friends. Leave off your question- 
ings about these matters that are too high for you, 
these things which God has kept in his own power. 
They are of no practical importance to you ; follow 



MISPLACED ANXIETY. 



75 



Christ, and very soon to you also will come that " re- 
pose" of spirit which lies upon the "height" of faith. 

III. Finally, let me apply the principle of my text 
for a moment or two to the contingencies of the future. 
We are all prone to pry into the years that are to come, 
and many are the misplaced anxieties we cherish re- 
garding them. Sometimes we are solicitous about our- 
selves. We cannot see what is to become of us, amid 
the crosses and losses that have come upon us. And if 
we have no such cause for apprehension, we torment 
ourselves about others. What shall our children do? 
Will they give themselves earnestly to the Saviour, or 
will they let the influence of fashion and sin seduce 
them to their destruction ? Or, again, it is our friends 
for whom we are concerned. We wish to know how 
they will stand, whether they will be faithful and true to 
the last, or will falter and give way before temptation. 
Or, we fear for the Church. Like the aged Eli, " our 
hearts tremble for the ark of God." We ask ourselves, 
Can it be possible that error and unbelief, ungodliness 
and impurity shall take captive " the church of God 
which he hath purchased with his own blood " ? Or, to 
mention no more, we are distressed for the future of the 
nation. We look around and see selfishness and corrup- 
tion dwelling in the places which patriotism and purity 
were wont to occupy, and as one system of fraud 
after another is detected and exposed, we cry, "What 
are we coming to ? What shall be the end of these 
things? " Now to all these misgivings about the future, 
whether of ourselves or others, whether of the Church 
or of the State, we have but one answer, and that is 
furnished by the principle of my text. The future is 
not ours. The present is. We are responsible for the 
present and not for the future, except only as it shall 



76 



MISPLACED ANXIETY. 



be affected by the present. Nay, we shall best serve 
the future, and secure it from those evils which we 
fear, by doing with our might the work of the present, 
and leaving the issue with our God. To all those 
among us, therefore, who are weighting themselves 
down by anxious questionings about the future, I 
would say, Leave that alone. It belongs to God. The 
passing moment only is yours, and the duty of that 
moment is to "follow Christ." Let that duty have 
your whole attention. In your business " follow 
Christ," by conducting it for his glory and on his 
maxims, and leave the result with him. He will take 
care of you. In your household " follow Christ," by 
dwelling with the members of your family in love and 
purity, and setting before them an example of faith 
and charity. Then trust the rest with him. He will 
" turn his hand upon the little ones," and take them 
under his protection. In the church let your endeavor 
be to adorn the doctrine of God your Saviour by a 
holy walk and conversation, and do not distress your- 
self about things that have not yet occurred, and that 
will not occur if only all its members be faithful and 
upright. The Philistines will not carry off God's ark, 
or if they do, they will soon be made as eager to send 
it back as they were to take it away, and the event 
will be overruled for the smashing and mutilation of 
their own Dagon. Be sure God will take means to 
preserve his Church. Your individual duty is to follow 
Christ in every matter that comes before you, and let 
no carking care for what is merely problematical unfit 
you for going whole-heartedly into that which is clear- 
ly the work of the hour. So with national affairs: 
What may be the complexion of things a hundred 
years hence ; whether the second centenary of the re- 
public shall be as full of jubilee as the first ; whether 



MISPLACED ANXIETY. 



77 



our political corruptions shall then have gone to that 
place to which slavery has already been sent before 
them, or whether they still shall sit as a nightmare 
on the land — that is not for us to fret over. Our pres- 
ent duty is to do the work of Christ in the nation by 
insisting on the cardinal virtues of honesty, sobriety, 
justice, and benevolence. Let us do that work right 
earnestly j the rest is God's. 



THE EAGLE'S NEST. 



Deuteronomy xxxii. 11, 12. — "As an eagle stirreth up her nest, 
fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh 
them, beareth them on her wings ; so the Lord alone did lead him, 
and there was no strange god with him." 

That was a day never to be forgotten by any who 
were privileged to be present at its solemn services, 
when Moses said " Farewell " to the tribes whom for 
forty years he had led through the wilderness. The 
time drew near when "the man of God" must die; 
yet no mere " debt of nature " was his departure, for 
"his eye was not dimmed, neither was his natural 
force abated ;" but because "he spake unadvisedly with 
his lips," and " believed not God to sanctify him " at 
Meribah, " in the eyes of the children of Israel," he 
must not enter the Promised Land. This was a bitter 
disappointment, and we can deeply sympathize with 
him as he cries, " O Lord God, thou hast begun to 
show thy servant thy greatness and thy mighty hand. 
I pray thee let me go over and see the good land that 
is beyond Jordan, that goodly mountain, and Leba- 
non;" but when the answer came, "Let it suffice thee, 
speak no more unto me of this matter," he calmly 
submitted and began " to set his house in order " for 
his death. Without one murmuring or rebellious 
word, he rehearsed in the ears of all the people the 
history in which he had taken such an honorable 
part, and the laws which he had received for them 
from God ; and then, having given Joshua charge con- 
cerning them in Jehovah's name, he sang this psalm, 

1 78 



THE EAGLE'S NEST. 



79 



which for poetic sublimity, for holy expostulation, for 
devout piety, and for solemn power has never been 
surpassed. He praises Jehovah with the fervor of a 
seraph, and pleads with the people with the tender- 
ness of a father. Now the strains are soft and low, as 
if they came from the chords of an iEolian harp in the 
stillness of the gentle summer eve ; anon they are loud 
and stormful, as if some gust of passionate intensity 
had come sweeping over his spirit ; now they are joy- 
ous with the recollection of Jehovah's mercies ; and 
again they are terrible, as with the echoes of Sinai's 
thunder, when he rolls out the fearful doom that must 
attend the after-apostasy of the chosen people. 

It is all unique. Yet to the modern reader there is 
perhaps no strain in it so sweet as that which I have 
just read as my text. The figure which is here intro- 
duced is one which seems to have been a favorite with 
Moses, for in a former portion of the history we have 
these words (Exodus xix. 4) : " Ye have seen what I 
did unto the Egyptians, and how I bare you on eagles' 
wings." The probability therefore is, that in his shep- 
herd life among the mountains of Midian he had often 
seen and been impressed by the interesting process 
which he here describes, and so the allusion to the 
eagle and her young would be just as natural and ap- 
propriate for him, as the kindred illustration taken 
from the hen gathering her brood under her wings 
was for the Lord Jesus. But, however we may account 
for his selection of it, the figure itself is as true to 
nature as it is striking and instructive in the use which 
is here made of it. The eagle has a peculiar affection 
for its young, and is said to manifest it in a most un- 
usual manner. When she thinks them strong enough 
for flight she disturbs their nest, with the view of 
making it so uncomfortable for them that they must 



80 



THE EAGLE'S NEST. 



leave it ; then she flutters over them to encourage them 
to attempt to fly and to show them how to do it ; and if 
every other method fails, it is alleged that she spreads 
her wings, and taking her offspring on them, soars with 
them aloft ; then gliding swiftly from beneath them, 
she leaves them for the moment to their own resources. 
But if they should be unable to bear themselves up, 
she darts beneath them again with incredible swift- 
ness, and receiving them once more upon her wings 
she prevents their fall, and brings them back again to 
the rocky ledge whereon the nest was built. Thus it 
was, according to the poet, that Jehovah educated his 
ancient people, and since his dealings with them were 
typical and parabolical representations of his treat- 
ment of individual men in spiritual matters, under the 
gospel dispensation, it is no mere fanciful accommo- 
dation of my text, but indeed a fair and legitimate in- 
terpretation of it, which finds in it a description of the 
calling and training of human souls for the glorious 
and exalted "inheritance of the saints in light." Thus 
at least we design to regard it now. We find in it 
these three things as so many separate ingredients in 
the soul's discipline for heaven — needful dislodgement, 
perfect example, and efficient help. Let us seek briefly 
to illustrate each. 

I. There is needful dislodgement. The eagle " stir- 
re th up her nest," making it disagreeable to her young ; 
so the Lord does with those whom he calls to himself. 
"When the sons of Jacob found themselves in Egypt, 
the brothers of the king's favorite minister, with the 
goodly land of Goshen reserved for them and for their 
cattle, they might well have said within themselves, 
"The lines have fallen unto us in pleasant places." 
They were in a very delightful nest ; and so long as 



THE EAGLE'S NEST. 



si 



their enjoyment of Egypt's best tilings lasted, they 
would naturally have no desire to leave the land in 
which they were so comfortably provided for. But 
this was not God's purpose regarding them. He 
wished to plant them in the country which he had 
promised to their fathers, and so to awaken in them the 
desire for its blessedness he " stirred up their nest." 
Another king arose who knew not Joseph. He " made 
their lives bitter with hard service," and reduced them 
to the most degrading slavery. Then their cry as- 
cended into the ear of Jehovah, whom they had, alas ! 
too much forgotten. Out of their agony came their 
prayer, and in answer to their prayer, came Moses. 

Now is it not very much in the same way yet that 
God works in the conversion of souls? In the day of 
our worldly comfort and business affluence, while we 
dwell in the Goshen of prosperity, we think little of 
God ; we care little for the concerns of our souls ; we 
are not in the very least attracted to the heavenly land. 
But when a reverse comes upon us, when poverty or 
sickness or bereavement or affliction of any sort at- 
tacks us, then we are compelled to confront the great 
soul problem, " What must I do to be saved ? " and 
as that anxious cry is crushed out of our heart, we 
find the Lord near us with his deliverance. There 
was once a king in Judah who, in the splendor of his 
prosperity, exalted himself above the God of his 
fathers ; he set up gods many and lords many ; he 
persecuted the prophets of Jehovah ; he made his own 
children to pass through the fire unto Moloch, and 
filled Jerusalem with blood from the one end of the 
city even unto the other ; and he thought not, all that 
while, of Him with whom especially he had to do. But 
see how God " stirred up the nest " for him. A few 
years rolled on, the Babylonian enemy came sweeping 
4 



82 



THE EAGLETS NEST. 



like a destroying tide over his dominions, and in the 
reflux of the wave he was borne back a captive to the 
conqueror's home. There, amid his loneliness, he 
was brought face to face with his conscience and his 
God, and out of the agony of conviction which that 
produced there was born his prayer of penitence, in 
answer to which he found regeneration and forgive- 
ness, so that he went back to his country and his 
throne a new man, and spent the latter part of his 
life in seeking to undo what he had done in the 
former. 

Now as the Lord dealt with Manasseh, he deals 
with many yet. He troubles them, that they may 
be brought to see their true condition, and to feel 
their need of him. He mars their enjoyment of 
earthly things, that he may whet their souls' appe- 
tite for those enduring joys which the world cannot 
take away. See then that you do not misunderstand 
his discipline of you. "When he makes you miserable 
by the loss of external prosperity, it is that he may 
lead you to the true source of happiness in himself ; 
when he deprives you of the riches that are perisha- 
ble, it is that he may impel you to seek those which 
are incorruptible and eternal ; when he wounds your 
heart, it is that he may ultimately heal it ; when death 
breaks in upon your homestead and bears away one of 
the cherished objects of your affection, it is that you 
may be stirred up to seek your solace in Him who is 
"the Eesurrection and the Life." This is the general 
principle of God's providential dealings with men, for 
thus by the prophet he is represented as speaking, 
" I will go and return to my place, till they acknowl- 
edge their offence, and seek my face : in their affliction 
they will seek me early." He awakens, that he may 
convert. He passes by in the whirlwind and the 



THE EAGLETS NEST. 



80 



earthquake and the fire, that he may the better pre- 
pare the heart to hear the " still small voice " of gos- 
pel grace. He " stirreth up the nest," that we may be 
compelled to face the stern realities of eternity, and 
begin to live indeed. 

It is no true blessing, therefore, for a man to have 
unbroken prosperity. It fosters a false security; 
it generates pride ; it is apt to make the individual 
feel that he is independent even of God. He is prone 
to say, "To-morrow shall be as this day," and so 
to take no thought of any sort for the future and 
the unseen. Hence the Psalmist has said, "Be- 
cause they have no changes, therefore they fear not 
God." He is the really unfortunate man, therefore, 
who has never known adversity ; and he is to be truly 
congratulated who by reason of his afflictions has 
found out the glorious truth that life — real, solid, se- 
rious, and immortal life — begins and consists in the 
knowledge of the only true God, and Jesus Christ 
whom he has sent. Perhaps there may be in this 
audience some one who is even at the present moment 
passing through this disturbing and dislodging process. 
God is " stirring up his nest." The things which used 
to delight him have now no attraction for him ; the 
wealth he prized has passed from his grasp ; the busi- 
ness on which he was wont to pride himself has fallen 
into decay; or the house which was once so joyous 
with the ring of the laughter of happy children is 
desolate and his heart depressed. Let such an one 
learn that all this is but the way God takes to sweep 
the house, in order that he may find the lost jewel of 
his priceless soul. All this is but the setting of him 
out to face for himself those dreadful questions which 
can find their only satisfactory solution in his con- 
version. 



84 



THE EAGLE'S KEST. 



But it is in this way also that God trains a soul 
after it has come to him ; and though that is a 
subordinate thought quite distinct from the princi- 
pal idea of my text, I may dwell on it for a moment 
or two. 

Read the book of Judges, and you will find that ever 
as the chosen people began to grow self-sufficient 
and to forget God, some new oppressor came upon 
them. Now it was Eglon, now Sisera, now Midian, now 
Ammon, and now Philistia ; and under the weight of 
their affliction they returned in penitence to Jehovah's 
feet. But is not the life of the individual Christian 
to-day very like the history of the nation of Israel as 
it appears in that old record ? When he forgets God, 
and, feeling himself as comfortable as a bird in a nest, 
leaves off all care for the concerns of his soul, and 
loses his interest in the ordinances of the gospel ; then, 
by some providential dispensation, in the shape of 
disappointment or sorrow or affliction, God stirs him 
out of his resting-place, and compels him to return to 
himself. Have we not here the explanation of many 
of the unsettlements and discomforts through which 
we have passed in our lives ? I have heard one tell 
that in the first fresh fervor of his spiritual life he 
consecrated himself to the ministry of the gospel, and 
went to college to prepare himself to discharge the 
duties of that office. But after he had been studying 
some years his heart grew cold, and he was drawn 
into commerce. He had not ceased to be a Christian, 
but he had lost that first love that impelled him to 
give himself to the ministry. Yet the Lord had not 
forgotten his vow, for he did not allow him to prosper. 
One plan after another was frustrated, and at length, 
disciplined by these trials, he was brought again to 
the Saviour's feet, went and finished his preparatory 



THE EAGLE'S NEST?. 



85 



course, and entered the ministry, in which he was 
made a blessing to many souls. Now as it was with 
this friend, and his consecration of himself to a life in 
the Christian ministry, so it has been with many, and 
their consecration of themselves to the ministry of the 
Christian life. At the hour of conversion they dedi- 
cated themselves to God in Christ, but after a while 
they became comparatively indifferent. Yet the Lord 
did not let them alone : he stirred up the nest, that he 
might revive their piety ; he sent affliction, that he 
might stimulate them to renewed zeal in the cultiva- 
tion of their souls for heaven. Which of us who has 
arrived at middle life has not had a whole series 
of such nest-stirring experiences in his personal his- 
tory ? And as to-day we look back upon them we can 
see that after each we took a new start, beginning each 
time on a higher level, so that we might almost say, 
that if we had known no such discipline we should 
never have had any growth in the Christian life. Thus 
it is that we explain the words of the apostle, " Whom 
the Lord loveth he chasteneth." He trains us by our 
trials. He guides us by our afflictions. He quickens 
us by the disturbances to which in his providence we 
are subjected. We are often apt to fret indeed over 
the ceaseless return of discipline. We think it hard 
that we are never allowed to be long at rest. Ever as 
we find ourselves in some well-feathered nest we are 
stirred out of it ; and we can never speak of ourselves as 
settled. But all this is because we are still in danger. 
Bad as it is to endure these things, it would be still 
worse for us if they did not come upon us, and when, 
in the heavenly land, we soar on tireless pinion, doing 
the high behests of God, we shall feel thankful for the 
dislodgements that first compelled us to use our faith- 
wings in his service here. 



86 



THE EAGLE'S NESTo 



II. But I find in this figure, in the second place, per- 
fect example. As the eagle fluttereth over her young, 
so the Lord did with his people. There is a passage 
in Sir Humphry Davy's Salmonia (a book dear to 
every lover of the angler's craft) which may well 
illustrate this portion of my text. He says : " I once 
saw a very fine and interesting sight above one of 
the crags of Ben Weevis, near Strathgarve. Two 
parent eagles were teaching their offspring — two 
young birds — the manoeuvres of flight. They began 
by rising from the top of a mountain in the eye of 
the sun (it was about mid-day, and bright for this 
climate). They at first made small circles, and the 
young birds imitated them : they paused on their 
wings waiting till they had made their first flight, 
and then they took a second and larger gyration, always 
rising toward the sun and enlarging their circle of 
flight, so as to make a gradually ascending spiral. The 
young ones still slowly followed, apparently flying bet- 
ter as they mounted, and they continued this sublime 
kind of exercise, always rising, till they became mere 
points in the air, and the young ones were lost, and 
afterwards their parents, to my aching sight." * Now, 
could anything be finer than that as an illustration of 
the method by which, through the example which he 
sets before us, God teaches us to live? He is not con- 
tent with laying down the law for us, but in his own 
dealings with us he shows us the law glorified and 
brightened by his actions. Does he command us to 
be merciful ? He is himself " rich in mercy to all 
that call upon him." Does he enjoin us to be benevo- 
lent ? He has himself " loaded us with his benefits." 
Does he require us to forgive? He has himself " mul- 
tiplied to pardon." 



* Davy's Salmonia, pp. 99-100. 



THE EAGLE'S NEST. 



87 



But that we may not miss the force of his example 
because it is that of a Divine Being, he has, if I may 
so say, incarnated it in the life and character of Jesus 
Christ our Lord ; and the more we study that, the 
more shall we be impressed with the graphic appro- 
priateness of the figure of my text. That is perfect, 
and so it keeps perpetually fluttering over us, and 
soaring above us like the mother-bird over the eaglet. 
No matter what attainments we may make, we shall 
still see something in Christ which we as yet have 
not been able to realize. We shall never lose that 
ideal by overtaking it. Still will it hover over us, 
drawing us on and up toward the measure of the 
stature of the perfect man in Christ Jesus. Moreover, 
the example of Christ, beginning in the lowest form, 
widens into such ample circles as to embrace within 
its sweep all the circumstances and relationships of 
life. Herein it answers to those ever-enlarging gyra- 
tions of the parent eagles, which, in the passage I have 
just quoted, Sir Humphry Davy has so admirably 
described. At first we have "the holy child," subject 
to his parents in the home at Nazareth, and furnish- 
ing a lesson for the nursery in every Christian house- 
hold ; then we have the frank and ingenuous boy, sitting 
in the midst of the doctors, both hearing them and ask- 
ing them questions, presenting a picture which ought 
to be framed and fixed in the heart of every school- 
boy; then we have the industrious artisan, working 
at the carpenter's bench and consecrating all earthly 
toil by his divine condescension, a scene which might 
well become an inspiration to all who labor in the work- 
shops of the land ; then we have the pious man in the 
synagogue, and the good man going his rounds of 
benevolence, and the teacher with his disciples, and 
the friend with his friends ; and so it rises up, widen- 



THE EAGLE'S NEST. 



ing as it rises, until as its loftiest manifestation we 
have the sublime self-sacrifice of the cross, and that is 
so exalted as to be wellnigh out of sight of this selfish 
small-eyed generation. 

Thus viewed we shall find that the divine example 
of the Lord Jesus has a bearing upon us all, no matter 
what may be our age, our circumstances, or our attain- 
ments. He was " in all points tempted like as we are, 
yet without sin ; " hence, wherever we are, save only 
when we are walking in the ways of iniquity, we may 
see the print somewhere of the Master's foot. In the 
wilderness of temptation ; in the solitude of the closet ; 
in the home of sorrow brightened with sympathy ; in 
the garden of agony ; and in the hall of judgment, where 
evil men pour insults on our name, he has gone be- 
fore us, teaching us in each case how to bear our- 
selves. Yea, he has descended for us into the dark- 
ness of death, that he might show us how to die, as 
well as take for us the sting from death. Oh, let us 
seek to imbibe the spirit of this divine Redeemer, that 
we may in our measure reproduce his life before the 
eyes of our fellow-men ! 

Look at that youth with his brush and palette in 
his hands standing before the master-piece of the great 
Italian. He is studying every minutest feature of the 
superb original, and at length he becomes possessed, 
as it were, by the spell of the genius that is looking 
down upon him from the silent canvas. Then he sets 
to work for himself, and though his earliest efforts are 
about as awkward as the first timid flutterings of the 
eaglet, yet he tries again and again, lessening each 
time the interval between him and his model, until at 
length he stands out before the world recognized as 
one who has caught the fervor and the inspiration of 
his master. So let it be with us, and the perfect pat- 



THE EAGLE'S NEST. 



89 



tern which the great Eedeemer has left us. We are 
working on no silent canvas, and with no oily colors. 
It is ours to paint on the rude ground of our common 
life with thoughts and words and deeds. But there 
is a grander inspiration in that than the artist feels in 
his studio; while in the "Follow me," that comes to 
us from the lips of the Lord, there is a nobler encour- 
agement than earthly genius can impart. 

But you may be ready to say, as you contemplate 
the spotlessness of the great Exemplar, " It is too hard 
for me, it is high, I cannot attain unto it ; " and it is 
just here that the third thing in my text comes most 
appropriately in. 

III. It is effectual help. "The eagle spreadeth 
abroad her wings, taketh her young, beareth them on 
her wings." So God doth with his people, especially 
when they are engaged in following the example which 
the Lord Christ hath left them. Mr. Philip Henry 
Gosse, the well-known naturalist, in his interesting 
work on the birds of Jamaica, speaking of the red- 
tailed buzzard, which is closely allied to the eagles, 
tells us that a friend of his, who was not likely ever to 
have heard of the verses before us, " once witnessed 
the emergence of two young ones from a nest near 
the top of an immense cotton-tree, and their first at- 
tempt at flight. He distinctly saw the mother-bird, 
after the first young one had flown a little way and 
was beginning to flutter downward, fly beneath it, and 
present her back and wings for its support. He could 
not say, indeed, that the young one actually rested 
on, or even touched the parent ; perhaps its confi- 
dence returned on seeing support so near, so that it 
managed to reach a high tree, when the other little 
one, invited by its parent, tried its infant wings in like 



90 



THE EAGLETS NEST. 



manner." * This at any rate is plain: the parent bird 
is ever near the struggling eaglet, and is ready in a 
moment with effectual aid, and so God has said to 
each of his children, "I will never leave thee, nor 
forsake thee." "My grace is sufficient for thee." 
"My strength is made perfect in weakness." "Fear 
thee not ; for I am with thee : be not dismayed ; for I 
am thy God : I will help thee, yea, I will strengthen 
thee ; yea, I will sustain thee with the right hand of 
my righteousness." "My presence shall go with thee, 
and I will give thee rest." These are all the promises 
of Him who is the Faithful and the True. We may 
rely therefore on their fulfilment. And this ought to 
sustain us in the arduous endeavors which we make 
to attain Christian excellence. But, that we may not 
mistake in this matter, let us learn a few things con- 
cerning it, which seem to be suggested by the figure 
here employed. 

1. In the first place, it is not intended to supersede 
our own exertions. The whole purpose of the mother- 
bird is to get its offspring to make right use of its 
wings ; and the grand design of God's assistance is to 
direct and stimulate us to use our own powers in his 
service and for his glory. The help is his, but the out- 
come of that help is in our own character and actions. 
Hence we explain the mutual relation to each other of 
the two clauses of the apostle's command, " Work out 
your own salvation with fear and trembling. For it is 
God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his 
good pleasure." And it is remarkable that in all the 
deliverances wrought out for his ancient people by 
Jehovah, this purpose of stimulating them to personal 
exertion is apparent. He parted the waters of the Ked 



* See Fairbairn's Imperial Bible Dictionary, article Eagle. 



THE EAGLE'S NEST. 



Sea for tliem, but then they had themselves to walk 
to the further shore. He furnished the manna, but 
each had to gather his own portion. He provided the 
water, but each had to fill his pitcher for himself. He 
caused the brazen serpent to be set up, but each bitten 
one had to look for his own cure. He gave the victory 
over Amalek in answer to the prayer of Moses, but 
that victory was also the result of the valor of the 
soldiers under Joshua's leadership. So in the mira- 
cles of Christ you will see very frequently the same 
purpose to stimulate to personal effort. The man with 
the withered hand was commanded to stretch it out. 
The poor helpless paralytic was enjoined to " arise, take 
up his bed and walk," and the impotent one at the 
pool of Bethesda was exhorted " to rise up and walk." 

Now it is not otherwise in spiritual things. The 
command given to the anxious one is " Believe," " Re- 
pent," and the injunction to the disciple is " Follow me." 
But while there is divine help given for obeying these 
precepts, yet it must never be forgotten that the actual 
obeying of them must be our own act. The believing, 
the repenting, the following, are not done for us, they 
are to be done by us. We have already the capacity 
for doing them all, and the strength to use that capa- 
city will be imparted to us as we make the attempt 
to use it. The bird learns to fly by using its wings. 
The child learns to walk by employing its limbs, and 
we learn to live the Christian life by employing 
our faith and cultivating obedience to the commands 
of Christ. I know that the parallel is not perfectly 
exact, for there is a kind of help imparted to the 
soul in the making of these efforts which the parent 
cannot give to the child and the eagle cannot give to 
its young ; nevertheless, let us not forget that even 
that mysterious assistance can be enjoyed by us only 



92 



THE EAGLE'S NEST. 



while we are in the act of putting forth our own 
exertions. A man is not carried helplessly into the 
new life any more than the Israelites were carried 
over the Ked Sea. He lives when he chooses to be- 
lieve, and that believing, however much divine agency 
may be concerned with it, is his own act. Wait not 
therefore for any one to spread for you the faith-wing 
on which you are to rise, but make the effort to ex- 
pand it for yourself, and you will find beside you the 
guiding and sustaining Saviour. 

2. But let it be noted again that this divine assist- 
ance is always near. The parent eagle kept ever 
hovering near its young one, and in its moment of 
extremity darted in beneath it with speedy assistance. 
So God is ever nigh to them that need him. There 
is indeed no one so near to us as Jehovah is. I cannot 
cross the street to ask a neighbor's help without taking 
some little time to do it in ; but I can reach God in a 
moment. I cannot speak to the friend who is by my 
side without taking some time in which to tell him of 
my strait ; but a look, a cry, a telegram-like appeal 
will enter in a moment into the heart of God, and 
quick as sensation travels from the finger-tip to the 
brain along the wondrous mechanism of the nervous 
system, the promised aid may be by me enjoyed. 

God though unseen is not distant. The veil that 
hides him from us is one of nature, not of space. And 
within his call are the angelic ministers who are eager 
all to do his behests of mercy. Ah ! if for but one 
moment our eyes might be opened as those of Elisha's 
servant were at Dotham, we too might see hovering 
all around us the blessed messengers whom he has 
told off for our assistance. For the miracle in that 
case was not in the presence of the angelic host, but 
only in the purging of the young man's eyes to per- 



THE EAGLE'S NEST. 



93 



ceive them. But, better than all his angels, God him- 
self is with us, nearer us than is the friend who is sit- 
ting by our side, nay, dwelling in us by his Spirit ; 
therefore we may sing, " God is our refuge and strength, 
a very present help in trouble." 

3. But to add only one thought more : this divine 
help is all-sufficient. It meets our every need. The 
eaglet cannot fall while the mother-bird is near ; the 
Christian cannot fail when God is nigh. How often, 
with all our willingness to help a brother, we are pain- 
fully conscious of our inability to succor him. "We stand 
as it were outside of him. We can soothe his fevered 
brow, or chafe his wearied limbs, or bathe his aching 
head, but we cannot get into his soul. "We cannot pit 
heart into him. We cannot inspire him with faith, cr 
hope, or courage, or fill his spirit with patience. How- 
ever much we may desire to do any of these things, 
they are beyond our power. We cannot make him brave 
before the tempter, or give him firmness to say "No" 
to the enticing sinner. But God can, for he can reach 
the spirit. He has often done these very things for 
us. We know whereof we speak, and what he has 
done for us he can do, O timid, struggling one ! for you. 
Go then to him. Wait upon him ; for they that wait 
on him shall mount up with wings as eagles, they shall 
run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint. 

There are two practical thoughts which I should like 
to leave with you as the application of this discourse : 

1. Let us see in this subject the key to the right 
understanding of God's providential discipline of his 
people. We are apt to misjudge and misconstrue his 
dealings with us, and when we are called by him to 
face trial, we are prone to imagine that he is angry 
with us, or that he has a controversy with us. The 
truth rather is that he is using means to stir us up to 



94 



THE EAGLE'S NEST. 



earnest personal exertion in our endeavors after the 
Christian life. It seems a paradox to say that afflic- 
tion is an indication that God loves us, and when we 
repeat the apostle's words in the hearing of some trou- 
bled one, they seem to fall like an acid on a raw, un- 
bandaged wound. Yet they are most true, since trials 
keep us from becoming " settled on our lees like Moab ; " 
they empty us out from vessel to vessel, clarifying us 
ever by the process ; or, in the figure of my text, they 
stir the nest and push us over, that we may be urged 
to use our faith-wings, and soar aloft in the service of 
our God. 

2. Let us learn from this subject how we should 
proceed wisely and tenderly to train others for God. 
We should be to those whom we desire to benefit as 
near as possible what God has been to us. Parents, 
here is a lesson for you. It bids you seek the godly 
upbringing of your children by love and example and 
constant watchful care. Sabbath-school teacher, here 
is a lesson too for you. It bids you labor for the conver- 
sion and spiritual growth of those committed to your 
care, with continuous assiduity, unwearied love, and 
consistent life. Pastor, here is a lesson too for you. 
It bids you be among your people as Paul was among 
the Thessalonians, gentle as a nurse cherishing her 
children. Yea, to all who would be useful in training 
souls for heaven there is here an admonition to re- 
member the omnipotence of love, when that is con- 
joined with the beauty of holiness. Let us try to put 
it in practice, and so each be in his measure like him 
whom the poet thus describes : 

" And as the bird each fond endearment tries 
To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, 
He tried each art, reprov'd each dull delay, 
Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way. " 



OUE FATHEK. 



Matthew vi. 9. — "Our Father." 

Romans viii. 15. — " Ye have received the Spirit of adoption, 
whereby we cry, Abba, Father." 

What sacred associations cluster round the word 
father ! The very mention of it carries us back to the 
dawning of our consciousness, when we learned our 
earliest lessons at a parent's lips. We think of the 
time when he trained us to fold our hands in prayer, 
and when, with the holy book before us, we stood 
between his knees to read the touching story of the 
cross. As we grew in years, we increased also in con- 
fidence in him. He was our oracle in doubt, our pro- 
tector in danger, our adviser in perplexity. To him 
we went first to tell our joys, and by his side we stood 
to sob out our sorrows. The thought of him was 
inwoven into all our youthful plans and early am- 
bitions. Our highest happiness was in pleasing him, 
and our bitterest grief was in wounding his affection. 
We knew no worldly care when we dwelt beneath his 
sheltering roof, we felt no fear when we held his loving 
hand. While he lived we had the consciousness that 
there was one between us and all the rude and rough 
assaults of the world, and when he died we first experi- 
enced the dreariness of solitude and isolation. A true 
father is the best earthly friend while he lives, and after 
he has gone there gathers round his memory a halo 
of glory borrowed from the heaven into which he has 
entered, and we name him with a feeling that is almost 

95 



96 



OUB FATHER. 



worship. All that is tender and true and strong and 
wise and generous and noble is to a loving son treas- 
ured up in this word Father. 

But to the thoughtful and religious soul the earthly 
significance does not exhaust the meaning of this holy 
name ; for God at first designed that the human father- 
hood should be the miniature of that relationship in 
which he stood to men, and he wished them to un- 
derstand that the love of parents to their children 
on earth " is but as a drop to the ocean of fatherly 
love which is in himself." * Adam was the son of 
God, not only as being the creature of his hand, but 
also as possessing a moral and spiritual resemblance to 
him, and as being the object of his complacency and 
affection. So long as he remained in innocence there 
was the outflow of fatherly love and regard from God 
to him, and there was in him filial affection and rev- 
erence toward God. But when he sinned, he lost that 
spiritual resemblance to Jehovah which was the glory 
and crown of his sonship ; and God, as the moral 
governor of the universe, could not but visit him with 
the penalty of his transgression. Hence he was de- 
prived of the privileges of his sonship. Still, how- 
ever, the fatherly heart of God yearned over his lost 
child, and sought his deliverance and return. But 
that could not be attained without satisfaction being 
made to the law which man had broken ; so, to remove 
that obstacle, God sent his own divine and eternal 
Son into the world to take human nature into union 
with his own, and to offer himself a sacrifice for hu- 
man sin. This mission was successfully accomplished, 
and now, the honor of his government having been 
vindicated, and the demands of his justice having been 



* Leighton on the Lord's Prayer. 



OUR FATHER.. 



97 



met, God is both able and willing to receive back into 
the embrace of his Fatherhood all who are willing 
by faith in Jesus to return to him. As sinners, we 
are the " children of wrath ; " as believers in Jesus, we 
become anew " the sons of God." Thus it is not only 
as the first-born of every creature, and the great elder 
brother of humanity, but also and more especially as 
the divine Eedeemer and Regenerator of his people, 
that Jesus takes them by the hand, and leading them 
into the holy of holies, and up to the very mercy-seat, 
teaches them to say, " Our Father." 

There is, indeed, a looser and lower sense in which 
the term Father is used in regard to God's relation- 
ship to men. He is so styled as the author of their ex- 
istence, the preserver of their lives, and the provider 
for their wants. But he is all these to the lower cre- 
ation as well as men, and so it is only when we take 
into account the elements of spiritual remembrance 
and mutual affection that we rise to the true and 
proper ideal of human sonship on the one hand and 
divine Fatherhood on the other. This, however, was 
lost in the Fall, but it is graciously restored to all 
who believe in Jesus, according to these declarations : 
" As many as received him, to them gave he power to 
become the sons of God, even to them that believe on 
his name."* And again, "Ye are all the children of 
God by faith in Christ Jesus." t Now as this faith is the 
great means in the hand of the Holy Spirit by which 
men are regenerated, we see how it comes that Paul 
has said, " We have received the Spirit of adoption, 
whereby we cry, Abba, Father." Regeneration restores 
in us that spiritual resemblance to Jehovah which is 
the essence of sonship, and which was lost at the Fall, 



* John i. 12. 

5 



f Gal. iii. 2G. 



98 



OUR FATHER. 



and thus it is only through the new birth that we can 
re-enter into God's family. 

There are those, indeed, who would reduce the proc- 
lamation of the gospel to the simple preaching that 
men are already, and as they are, God's children, but 
this seems to me to be both unscriptural and danger- 
ous. Men are God's children indeed, but they are 
his lost children. The gospel proceeds upon the 
ideas that we have effaced God's image from us by 
our sins, and that, with the loss of our character, we 
have forfeited our position in his family, and it pro- 
claims that we may regain alike this character and 
position through faith in Jesus Christ ; but it no- 
where asserts that we have never lost them. It is an 
offer of restoration, and therefore it implies that some- 
thing had been forfeited. The sacrifice of Christ, in- 
deed, did not make God our Father, but it made it 
consistent with the justice of his nature and the recti- 
tude of his government for him to manifest his Father- 
hood to sinful men who believe in Jesus. The change 
is wrought not in him but in us. God is our Father, 
but we, as sinners, can enter into the possession of 
the character and privileges of his sons only when we 
believe in Jesus and are born again. Thus there is 
" no sonship without spiritual birth." But so soon as 
one believes in the Lord Jesus, and sees the Father 
revealed in and through the Son, he becomes a child 
of God, and as among the earliest utterances of the 
infant you hear the parent's name, so the first word 
of the believer is " Abba," and the beginning of his 
prayer, " Our Father." 

Here, therefore, we may fitly pause a moment and 
examine whether we have this faith ? Do we believe 
in J esus Christ as our prophet to reveal God unto us, 
and our priest to make atonement for us ? Have we 



OUR FATHER. 



99 



received as true his testimony concerning Gocl as our 
Father ? Have we been born again ? Have we had 
restored to us by the Holy Spirit the lineaments of 
the divine image in " knowledge, righteousness, and 
holiness " ? Can we, taught by that Spirit, call God 
" Our Father " ? If we can, how great the privilege to be 
thus related to the King eternal ! how high the honor 
to be thus connected with the Great Supreme ! To 
have all the treasures of the word father dignified, glo- 
rified, infinitized, by having that name identified with 
Jehovah — oh, there is nothing so exalting, nothing so 
transporting as that, and they whose portion it is may 
truly say, " Behold what manner of love the Father 
hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the 
sons of God." * 

Having thus seen how we enter into this divine son- 
ship, let us briefly pass in review a few of the present 
practical advantages which we may derive from it. 

I. Here I observe, first, as suggested by the place 
where we find the words " Our Father," that when we 
can truly and intelligently call God by this name, new 
life is given to our devotions. It is not without sig- 
nificance that the prayer, so simple in its terms, and 
so wide in its comprehensiveness, which Jesus gave 
us both as a model and a form, should begin with 
these homely words. They bid us pause a moment 
and definitely realize what God is to us, and in what 
relationship we stand to him, before we go forward to 
present our petitions. Truly, as the devout Leighton 
has said, " this is one great cause of our wandering, 
that we do not at our entrance into prayer compose 
ourselves to due thought of God, and to set ourselves 



* 1 John iii. 1. 



100 



OUR FATHER. 



in his presence : this would do much to ballast our 
minds, that they tumble not to and fro, as is their 
custom." Even if we stood in another and less endear- 
ing relationship to Jehovah, it would still be becom- 
ing in us to seek to bring vividly before us the posi- 
tion which we occupy in reference to him ; but when 
that relationship is Fatherhood on the one side and 
sonship on the other, then we do both him and our- 
selves great injustice if we in any wise ignore it. If, 
for example, we lose consciousness of the Fatherhood 
and think of Jehovah only as the Just Judge and im- 
partial arbiter of men, how much terror comes into 
the heart, and how do " fear and trembling get hold 
upon us." If, again, to the exclusion of all others, we 
allow the idea to take possession of us that God is a 
king surrounded with all the glory of a celestial court, 
and to be approached with the minute observance of 
some heavenly etiquette, our minds will be so occupied 
with the manner of our coming to him that we shall 
be apt to forget the matter for which we come, and 
our service will be a pompous ritual perhaps, but a 
vain formality. 

I am persuaded that much of our lack of enjoyment 
in prayer, and much of the lifelessness and artificial- 
ness in our devotions generally, must be traced to the 
fact that we have not thoroughly received the spirit 
of adoption, and have lost the idea of God's Father- 
hood. Why should we be in terror of a father ? What 
liberty is that which our own son enjoys ! See how 
he comes bounding into our room, calculating that we 
will be thoroughly interested in all he has to say, and 
knowing that when he lays hold of our heart he has taken 
hold of our strength ! But is it different with God ? 
Let us remember that however ready a father on earth 
is to hear and help his child in perplexity, Jehovah is 



ioi 



infinitely more so ; let us think that whatever love 
our human parent has lavished upon us, God regards 
us with infinitely more, and then, even as in the days 
of our childhood we went with confidence and alacrity 
to our father's knee, we shall go with delight and 
enjoyment to God's throne of grace. 

Then as regards the celebration ,of God's praise 
the same law obtains. "What gladness a child has in 
singing when a father is by ! There is no thought of 
weariness or indifference, but every effort is put forth 
to give him pleasure. And if this be so in the case of 
the earthly, how much more ought it to be in the 
matter of the heavenly ? Let us but recognize that 
God is our Father, and that he is listening to our 
song, then our hymns of praise will be no longer dull 
and lifeless things, but will become animated and 
earnest ; the words we use will be no more doggerel 
lines, but the living poetry of warm and loving hearts ; 
the music we sing will be no more cold and chilling, 
but heart-stirring and ennobling in its strains, and we 
will rival David, when he cried, " My heart is fixed, O 
God, my heart is fixed : I will sing and give praise. 
Awake up, my glory; awake, psaltery and harp: I 
myself will awake early." * Here is the true cure 
for dull devotion, powerless prayer, and uninteresting 
worship. We need no splendid liturgy, no solemn 
litany, no gorgeous ritual. We need only a fresh bap- 
tism of the Spirit of adoption. We need only the 
hearts of sons glowing with ardent love for our divine 
Father. We need only to be able to say, in all their 
length and breadth and depth and height of meaning, 
these words, " Our Father," and then filial confidence 
filling our souls, "hosannas" will not "languish on 



* Psalm lvii. 7, 8. 



102 



OUR FATHER. 



our tongues," nor prayer come faltering feebly from 
our lips. It is an easy thing to offer the entire Lord's 
Prayer when we have mastered the first two words ; 
and the closet will be a chosen retreat when it becomes 
associated in our minds with our most endearing fel- 
lowship with our divine Father. 

II. But passing from this aspect of the subject, I 
ask you to observe that when we can truly and intelli- 
gently call God our Father, new joy is given to the 
discharge of duty. Duty, considered simply as such, 
is a cold, stern thing, and needs love to inspire it be- 
fore it can become joy. Duty thinks mainly of the 
work to be done ; love thinks of the person for whom 
it is performed. Duty's motive is fear, and its great 
concern is lest the work should not be well done, or 
lest some part of it should be omitted ; love's motive 
is simply and only to give expression to itself in ap- 
propriate actions. The fear which actuates duty often 
operates to produce the very evils which it most dep- 
recates ; but the ardor which burns in love gives a 
joyful energy to the heart, so that everything is done 
by it "with a will." Duty can be satisfied with itself, 
and says often with complacency, " Now my work is 
done." Love is never content, but is always finding 
new ways of manifesting its unselfish devotion. 

You know the difference, when you are lying on a 
sick-bed, between a strange nurse and an affectionate 
wife or a loving daughter. Yet when I put this con- 
trast, let me say, in a parenthesis, that I would not be 
Understood as depreciating a class of persons whom, 
from domestic experience, I have learned to " esteem 
Very highly in love for their work's sake." Their 
skill, patience, and tenderness can hardly be over-esti- 
mated, and when pestilence has entered the home 



OTJK FATHER. 



103 



their presence is felt to be an unspeakable relief. But, 
indeed, wherever this is true, their motive is not mere 
duty, but love to Christ, and to his people for Christ's 
sake, and to them, true sisters of mercy as they are, 
albeit they have taken no vow and wear no livery, 
Jesus will say at last, " I was sick, and ye nursed me : 
inasmuch as ye did it to one of the least of these my 
brethren, ye did it unto me." Let me put, then, the 
case of a nurse in whom there is no love to Christ, or 
to the individual on whom she attends, but who has 
only a desire to do her duty, and let me ask you to 
contrast that with the attention of a wife or daughter. 
Whatever you request the nurse does ; whatever the 
medical man orders she feels bound to obey ; she gives 
her ears, her eyes, her feet, her hands, yea even her 
intelligence to you ; but what a difference is there 
between that, valuable as it is, and a wife's affection 
or a daughter's care ? They give all that she gives, 
and their hearts along with it, thereby adding in- 
calculably to the value of the rest. There is some- 
thing which it is difficult to name or even to describe, 
but which is felt at once, as distinguishing the one 
from the other. You cannot say that the servant has 
not done her duty, but the loving ones have done, oh, 
how much more ! And this feeling in you corresponds 
to the difference in them ; for the one is at her work 
as work ; the others are doing a great work too, but 
their hearts are so in it that the thought of labor is 
lost, and their chief concern is to promote your re- 
covery. 

Now it is precisely the same in the matter of the 
service which we render to God, and until, realizing 
that he is our Father in Jesus Christ, our hearts glow 
with affection toward him, every attempt which we 
make to do his will must be simply and only an effort 



104 



OTJB FATHEE. 



to do duty. It will be work, and we will be cold and 
stern in the doing of it. There will be no spring or 
elasticity of soul about us while we are engaged in it. 
But when, through faith in Jesus Christ, we get to 
know and love God as our Father; when, as Paul 
phrases it, the spirit of adoption is received by us, 
then all this is changed. Duty is transfigured into 
delight. "What we ought to do becomes identical 
with what we wish to do, and so the work is a thou- 
sand times better done, and we are a thousand times 
happier in the doing of it. Here, then, is the true 
talisman at once for human excellence and human 
happiness, the living for God as our Father in Christ 
Jesus. 

' ' A servant with this clause 
Makes drudgery divine,'' 

and love exorcises from labor all that unwillingness 
which, whenever it exists, makes the worker for the 
time a slave. Whenever, therefore, we feel our ser- 
vice becoming irksome, or our lives degenerating into 
the discharge of routine duties, which we seek with 
much conscientiousness, it may be, but yet with little 
joy to perform, we may be sure we are forgetting our 
adoption. Heaven's own sunshine would illuminate 
our pathway, if every morning we went forth to do our 
Father's business ; and the driest and most uninter- 
esting things of daily life would acquire a new impor- 
tance in our eyes, and would be done by us with glad- 
someness, if we but felt we were doing them for a 
Father. Let us try this heavenly specific and we shall 
soon find that the glory of love will halo for us all 
common things with its own celestial radiance, and 
duty will merge into delight. 

III. Looking now to another department of human 



OUR FATHER, 



105 



experience, I remark, thirdly, that when we can truly 
and intelligently call God Father, a new significance 
is given to our earthly trials. The Lord himself hath 
said by the mouth of Solomon, " He that spareth the 
rod hateth the child," and he is too wise a Father to 
think of training his children without discipline. By 
trials he keeps them from falling away ; he leads them 
to bethink themselves and return when they have been 
backsliding, and he prepares them for the discharge 
of arduous and important duties. When, however, they 
are passing through this ordeal, they are apt to be 
cast down and to imagine that God has forgotten or 
forsaken them. But this view, though natural in their 
circumstances, is utterly unwarranted, for it is just be- 
cause he regards them as his children that he so deals 
with them. Discipline is a privilege that the Father 
reserves for his own children. You do not set your- 
selves to correct the faults of all the young people in 
the neighborhood. You keep your efforts in that di- 
rection for your own, and only because of your affec- 
tionate interest in them do you visit them with chas- 
tisement. Even so it is with God, and when we are 
suffering from his hands, instead of thinking that he 
has forgotten us, we ought to see in the fact a new 
evidence of his continued regard for us. Even as the 
sacred writer has said, " If ye endure chastening, God 
dealeth with you as with sons ; for what son is he whom 
the Father chasteneth not? But if ye be without chas- 
tisement, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bas- 
tards, and not sons." * Thus viewed, therefore, all our 
trials are tokens of our Father's affection. 

But this is not all ; we must have respect to the 
paternal design with which he sends our afflictions, as 



5* 



* Hebrews xii. 7, 8. 



106 



OUR FATHER. 



well as to the fact that they come from his fatherly 
heart. They are inflicted upon us, as the apostle 
in the passage already referred to has declared, in 
order that the peaceable fruits of righteousness may 
be wrought out in us. I have read that when the 
bread-fruit tree is withering, the Samoans plant an aloe 
beside its root, and thereby it is marvellously revived, 
becoming as productive as before. So when the tree 
of holiness within us begins to droop, the great Hus- 
bandman plants an aloe beside it in the shape of some 
trial or affliction, and anew the peaceable fruits present 
themselves to view. Our chastisements come not for 
his pleasure, for he doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve 
the children of men, but for our profit, that we may 
be made partakers of his holiness. Now this end is 
worth all the suffering that needs to be endured in 
order to secure it. Some time ago, while sojourning in 
the Housatonic valley, I was greatly interested in pass- 
ing through a paper manufactory and observing how 
the filthy rags were put through process after process, 
until at length the pulp pressed between heavy rollers 
came out upon the other side a seamless web of fairest 
white, having the mark of the maker woven into it. 
Let this illustrate God's purpose with his children. 
When he subjects them to one species of trial after 
another, it is only that at the last they may come forth 
purified and refined, having enstamped upon them his 
name and character, to be "known and read of all 
men." 

IY. I add only one other thought, namely, that when 
we can truly and intelligently call God our Father, a 
new glory is given to our conception of the heavenly 
world. Jesus teaches us to say, " Our Father which 
art in heaven," and so leads us to look upon that land 



OUR FATHER. 



107 



as our home. Many think of heaven only as a place of 
material splendor. They take literally all the brilliant 
imagery of the book of Eevelation. When they think 
of the Celestial City, their minds dwell upon its golden 
streets and pearly gates, but they have no relish for 
its spiritual delights. So soon, however, as we learn 
to look upon God as our Father, the glory of heaven 
to us consists in the presence there of Jehovah, and of 
the great elder brother, Jesus. The attractions of 
home, even upon the earth, are to persons, not to places 
or possessions. If one would know how true that is, 
let him, after twenty years' absence, return to the place 
of his birth, and he will find that the abode where 
once he knew the highest happiness has become to 
him a solitude from which he will seek to hasten 
away, or if he linger anywhere it will be in the corner 
of the churchyard where the ashes of his parents lie. 
We are attached to persons, not to places. Our living 
souls can truly love only living persons. We may like 
external objects or inanimate things, we can love only 
living, loving beings, and as it is not our likings but 
our loves that determine our lives, we see how impor- 
tant it is to have a right conception of the persons 
that constitute the glory and the charm of heaven. We 
can have no real and absorbing attraction to heaven 
until we love the persons who are there, and we 
never can love them until we can call God our Father 
and Christ our brother. 

This helps us to understand how, when the Lord 
desired to lift the thoughts of his followers to the 
glory that was before them, and sought to give them a 
sure anchorage in the storm of trial that was just 
about to break upon them, he said : * "In my Father's 



* John xiv. 2. 



108 



OUR FATHEB. 



house are many mansions : if it were not so, I would 
have told you. I go to prepare a place for you." Home 
is the centre of the heart, and so, by enabling us to 
call God our Father and heaven our home, Jesus cen- 
tres our hearts there, and gives us such an idea of its 
blessedness that we scarcely think of the outward 
accessories of its splendor, because of the delightful 
anticipation that we cherish of being there " at home 
with the Lord." O that God, through faith in Jesus 
Christ, would give to each of us this noble conception 
of heaven ! Then, on true and rational principles we 
shall desire the better country, and at length have ful- 
filled to us the beautiful German beatitude, " Blessed 
are the home-sick, for they shall reach home." 

"I met a fairy child, whose golden hair 
Around her face in sunny clusters hung, 
And as she wove her king-cup chain she sung 
Her household melodies ; those strains that hear 
The hearer back to Eden. Surely ne'er 
A brighter vision blessed my dreams. * Whose child 
Art thou,' I said, ' sweet girl ? ' In accents mild 
She answered, ' Mother's. ' When I questioned where 
Her dwelling was, again she answered, 4 Home. ' 
' Mother and Home,' O blessed ignorance, 
Or rather blessed knowledge ! What advance 
Farther than this shall all the years to come 
With all their lore effect ? There are but given 
Two names of higher note, ' Father and Heaven.' " 

I close with two simple stories, leaving them almost 
to make their own application. 

In the early days of the European colonies in this 
country it frequently happened that the settlers came 
into collision with the Indians, who spoiled their homes 
and slew or made off with their children. On one such 
occasion they killed a husband and his eldest son, 
carrying off into captivity a little girl, nine years old. 



OUR FATHER. 



109 



When the mother, who had been absent at the time, 
returned to her abode, her heart was wellnigh broken, 
but her sorrow was, if possible, more bitter for the 
living than for the dead. She sought her lost child 
everywhere, but all her efforts were in vain. At length 
ten years after, a British officer, having overcome the 
Indians in battle, made it a condition of peace that 
they should bring into his camp on a certain morning 
all the white people in their possession. The news 
was eagerly spread abroad, and on the day appointed 
all who had lost their friends came in the excited 
expectation of having them restored. Four hundred 
captives were brought in, and fathers, mothers, sisters, 
brothers passed along the line, looking earnestly for 
their own. Our poor heart-stricken mother was there, 
but she could not find her daughter, grown now into a 
woman, and beyond her recognition. Wringing her 
hands, she went in sadness to the officer, saying, "I 
cannot find my daughter." "Is there nothing," said 
he, "that she would know you by?" "Nothing," she 
replied, " unless it be a hymn we used to sing together 
to a favorite tune." " Sing it then," said he. So ad- 
vancing to the front she sang the well-known lines, 

"Alone, yet not alone am I, 

Though in this solitude so drear," etc., 

and scarcely had she begun when a young woman came 
rushing forth and fell weeping on her neck. The 
mother had found her daughter, and they joyfully 
went together home. 

Far different, however, was it with the lost sister of 
Wyoming. She had been stolen in early childhood, 
and her friends could not discover whither she had 
been conveyed. Sixty years went past, and the brothers 
who were boys when she was taken had become grey- 



110 



OUR FATHER. 



haired old men, when they heard of a white woman 
among the Indians who they thought might prove to 
be their sister. They went to visit her, and as they 
talked with her the conviction deepened that it was 
she indeed. They asked her about their old home, 
and she could tell how many brothers and sisters had 
been there. They inquired if she knew her name, and 
she replied that so long time had gone by that she 
had quite forgotten it. They asked again if she could 
know it if they repeated it ; she could not tell, it was 
so long ago. " Was it Frances? " said they. A light of 
recognition passed over her countenance at the sound 
and she replied, " Yes, it was Frances." " Then," said 
they, "you are indeed our sister ; will you come home 
with us ? " "O no," she said, "I was a young sapling 
then, I am now an old tree. I cannot be transplanted. 
My children are here about me, my home is in this 
place. I cannot go with you." So sorrowfully they 
returned without her. 

God, through the mission of his Son and the minis- 
trations of his servants, is seeking his lost children. I 
have sung you now a home song ; I have spoken in 
your ear your old home name, Son of God. I know 
you recognize it as that which you were intended to 
bear, though you have wandered far away from your 
Father's house. Will you come home to him, or are 
you so rooted in the world that you refuse to return ? 
Make not, I entreat you, your home here among the 
things of earth. Even if they have asserted some 
power over you be not longer under their control, but, 
by the supplicated help of the Holy Spirit, arise and 
go to your Father, for the welcome which was given to 
the prodigal will be as nothing to that with which 
God for Christ's sake will receive you. " This my son 
was dead, and is alive again ; he was lost, and is found." 



THE VISION OF GOD. 



Exodus xxiv. 11. — "They saw God, and did eat and drink." 

These words belong to one of the most solemn and 
important chapters in the history of Moses. The tribes 
were encamped at the base of Sinai. Thrice already 
had the law-giver been in the mount with God, and, 
with all the dread accompaniments of thunders and 
lightnings and tempests, and the voice of a trumpet 
exceeding loud, the Decalogue had been proclaimed in 
the hearing of the hushed and awe-stricken multitude. 
Over sacrificial offerings the people had entered into 
formal covenant with Jehovah ; for after f< Moses had 
spoken every precept to all the people according to 
the law, he took the blood of calves and of goats, with 
water, and scarlet wool, and hyssop, and sprinkled 
both the book and all the people, saying, This is the 
blood of the covenant which God hath enjoined unto 
you." Then, to finish this great sacrament, he went 
up again to the mount at the invitation of Jehovah, 
taking with him the official representatives of the 
tribes, and there they met their Lord, this time with 
reverence indeed, but without their former shuddering 
dread ; for now the darkness in which the Eternal had 
shrouded himself has given place to the likeness of 
" a paved work of sapphire-stone, and as it were the 
body of heaven in its clearness." No emblems of se- 
verity are now seen by them. He who had before 
revealed himself in the cloud with flaming thunder- 
bolts flashing forth through the tempest, has now 

111 



112 



THE VISION OF GOD. 



covered himself with his robe of light. The storm has 
passed. The clear azure of the sky is now the foot- 
stool of Jehovah, and nothing comes from him to cre- 
ate either terror or dismay in the breasts of the spec- 
tators ; for " upon the nobles of Israel he laid not 
his hand." Therefore with calm composure and with 
grateful hearts they sit down before him to complete 
the covenant service with a holy feast : " They saw 
God, and did eat and drink." 

The vision of God thus enjoyed could not have 
been a perception of the divine essence by the bodily 
eye, for that is an impossibility. Neither could it 
have been the sight of God's glory face to face, for he 
has said himself, " Thou canst not see my face, for 
there shall no man see me, and live." Nor was it 
even up to the level of that which Moses afterwards 
enjoyed, and which the Lord himself has thus de- 
scribed : " And it shall come to pass, while my glory 
passeth by, that I will put thee in a cleft of the rock, 
and will cover thee with mine hand. And thou shalt 
see my back parts ; but my face shall not be seen." 
We must conclude, therefore, that there was among 
these elders a vivid mental perception of the imme- 
diate presence of Jehovah with them, suggested and 
increased by some symbolical appearance, the char- 
acter of which is undescribed, but which they were 
led by unmistakable indications to associate with him. 
Whatever it was, it was fringed and framed to their 
vision by the "infinite azure" of the sky, and the 
robe of light was unaccompanied with those elements 
of terror in which at other times it was enveloped. 
Thus, to borrow the words of a German critic, " When 
the heads of the people venture to draw near their 
God, they find his presence no more a source of dis- 
turbance and dread, but radiant in all the bright love- 



THE VISION OF GOD. 



113 



liness of supernal glory ; a beautiful sign that the 
higher religion and state of conformity to law now 
established shall work onwards to eternal blessed- 
ness."* 

But now, leaving the primary reference of these 
words, let us get at the principle that is beneath them, 
and seek to apply that to ourselves. We have here 
the conjunction of that which is the highest attain- 
ment of faith, namely, the vision of God, with that 
which is the commonest act of our lives, namely, eat- 
ing and drinking. For us now, indeed, there are no 
such visible symbols of Jehovah's presence as those 
which Israel enjoyed, first in the darkness of tempest, 
and then here, in the unclouded serenity of the sky ; 
but still he who, believing the personal existence of 
God, hears his voice in conscience and revelation, and 
marks the indications of his working, alike in what 
men call nature, and in providence ; above all, he who 
accepts the Lord Jesus Christ as the incarnation of 
Deity, traces the wonders of his grace in the work 
of Eedemption, and trusts in the Lord Jesus for his 
own salvation, may be truly said to see God. 

Again, eating and drinking is only one form, and 
that one of the lowest forms of human enjoyment. 
Therefore, if the vision of God be compatible with 
that, it may be, it must be, equally so with every 
proper mode of employment or enjoyment among men. 
Indeed it is in the union of this spiritual faith with 
our ordinary occupations that the highest dignity and 
purest happiness of which our nature is capable are 
to be sought. When they who see God, and believe 
in him, can go about their common pursuits, not only 
without dread, but also with increased relish, they 



* Ewald, English translation, vol. it, p. 106. 



114 



THE VISION OF GOD. 



have attained to the loftiest style of human life. "When 
the sight of God does not interfere with our daily de- 
lights, but only adds to them a holier joy, and when 
our ordinary pursuits do not hinder us from seeing 
God, then we too sit down with these elders at their 
Sinai sacrament, and it may be said of us, as of them, 
that " we see God, and do eat and drink." 

But this cannot be said of all ; and, therefore, that 
I may the better illustrate the principle which I have 
now distilled from this history, I will bring before you 
the three experiences in regard to it, which, to my 
view, exhaust the possibilities of the case : 

I. In the first place, then, let it be noted, that there 
are some who eat and drink without seeing God. This 
is true in the very lowest sense in which the words 
can be employed ; for, unhappily, there are multitudes 
who partake of their ordinary food without any per- 
ception of the fact that they are indebted for it to a 
higher power. They take it as a thing of course, or, 
if they think upon its existence at all, they trace it 
entirely to their own skill and energy and persever- 
ance. They have earned it by "the sweat of their 
faces," or by the exercise of their brains, and if they 
have anything like gratitude in its enjoyment, that 
takes the shape of self-congratulation, for they give 
the honor solely to themselves. If it had come to 
them by miracle, as the manna fell around the camp 
of Israel, or as the multitude were fed at the hand of 
Jesus on the mountain side, they would see some rea- 
son in the expression of thankfulness to another as the 
giver of it ; but, because they have wrought for it at 
the bench or in the field, they feel that it is simply 
and only their own. 

In the same way there are many successful men of 



THE VISION OF GOD. 



115 



business, who enjoy the blessings of prosperity with- 
out seeing that God has had any hand in the bestow- 
ment of them. They are, as the phrase is, " self-made." 
They have been the architects of their own fortunes. 
They have earned their riches by their superior inteL 
ligence, their constant supervision of their affairs, 
their shrewdness in knowing when to take a risk and 
when to decline it, and their self-restraint in keeping 
under everything that might interfere with their am- 
bition. Hence, when they survey their great estab- 
lishments, and sit in their well-appointed homes, they 
have feelings akin to those which Nebuchadnezzar 
expressed when he said, " Is not this great Babylon, 
which I have built for the house of the kingdom, by the 
might of my power, and for the honor of my majesty ? " 

Similarly, there are those who have risen to places 
of power and influence, alike in the world and in 
the Church, who never think of God in their enjoy- 
ment of their eminence. It has come to them, so they 
say, all in the way of cause and effect. They have 
been able, diligent, and persevering, and, therefore, 
their prosperity or popularity is nothing more than 
the natural result of their use of appropriate means. 
And to mention only one other form of the same dis- 
position : there are men among us whose delight has 
been to unravel the secrets of the external world, and 
discover the operations of those forces which play so 
important a part in the physical universe. Their meat 
and their drink is to sit at the spectroscope, and by 
their wondrous analysis to bring out the composition 
of the sun, and of the various members of the plane- 
tary sphere. Their joy is to chain the lightning to 
their messages, and make it carry their words to the 
world's ends. They rise into ecstasies over the detec- 
tion of some new fact which witnesses to the uniform- 



116 



THE VISION OF GOl>. 



ity of law ; and they become enthusiastic at the pros- 
pect of being able to trace the mystery of the universe 
a step farther back than their predecessors have gone. 
But all this while they see nothing of God. All with 
them is law. No thrill of affection vibrates in their 
hearts to any personal agent ; and their emotions are 
similar to those which one feels as he looks upon a 
mighty machine moving on in rhythmic regularity at 
its unceasing work. I do not need to say that all our 
men of science are not such as I have now described, 
but every one acquainted with the recent utterances 
of some of them will admit that these confirm what I 
have said. 

Now I have grouped all these together because 
they are all alike practical atheists. They eat and 
drink, but they do not see God. And their blindness 
in this regard is to me amazing. For, to begin with 
the last, and to take the conception which they have 
of the universe as a machine, how is it possible to 
entertain such a notion for a moment, without taking 
along with it that of a mechanician, to whom it owed 
its construction, and who is superintending its opera- 
tions ? And what is law, if there be not personality 
behind it ? Even in the common employment of that 
term, we see that the law upon the statute-book does 
not enforce itself. And no matter where you find 
them, law and force are always two distinct things. 
Law is the regular operation of force. But whence 
comes that force ? who sustains it ? who or what gives 
to it its energizing power ? So far as we know or can 
observe, the force acts in a particular way, which is 
beautifully in harmony with other workings of other 
forces, and which, with them, co-operates to produce 
some great effect. But when we see such phenomena 
in the lower sphere of human activity, we immediately 



THE VISION OF GOD. 



117 



infer intelligence and choice, and these are the con- 
stituent elements of personality. Why then may we 
not infer these in the higher sphere of nature's work- 
ing ? How comes it that those who, when they find a 
flint arrow-head in a bed of gravel, immediately con- 
clude that a personal man must have been there to 
fashion it, and to handle it, can yet look upon this 
wondrous fabric of the universe, having on it innu- 
merable marks of design, and fail to infer from it that 
a personal God has formed and is sustaining it all? 
Brethren, when I put such questions as these, hard 
as it does seem to say it, I cannot but feel new force 
in the old words : " The fool hath said in his heart, 
There is no God." 

But the parallel to the atheism of the materialist is 
furnished in the practical godlessness of the man who 
ignores the providence of Jehovah in daily life. For 
the law that diligence brings success, does not enforce 
itself any more than the law of gravitation does. The 
prosperity that comes in that way is as really pro- 
duced by God as any physical effect is, and so the 
glory of it should be given unto him. Moreover, who 
does not recognize, as he looks back over his life, that 
at its critical junctures, when the train of his fortunes 
seemed in danger of being wrecked, an unseen hand 
moved the crossing lever, at the proper moment, and 
turned it on to the path that led to affluence ? We 
may not be able to explain the " how " of it, but we can 
all bear witness to the fact. The very term " luck," 
under which men have veiled their unconfessed faith 
in something above themselves, is a witness to the 
truth of what I say. The prosperity of the prosperous 
man has not been due entirely to himself. A hundred 
things, all of which were out of his control, have con- 
verged and co-operated to produce it, and if one of 



118 



THE VISION OF GOD. 



them had been different his success could not have 
been enjoyed. 

So of our food, it may be said that but for the 
health which we have and which enables us to labor, 
and but for the opportunities which have offered for 
the selling of our labor, we must have been entirely 
destitute. But for both of these, we are dependent 
upon God. Don't talk to me about the laws of health, 
or about the law of supply and demand. Again I pro- 
test that these laws cannot enforce themselves ; they 
are powerless but for the personality that is behind 
them, and that personality is God. How long will 
men hide Jehovah from them by the very laws which 
he is himself sustaining ! Let them be warned by the 
chastisements which in former times have come upon 
those who have thus refused to see God, even when 
they ate and drank. When Herod deified himself, 
tracing his greatness only to his own exertions, the 
hand of God came forth and laid him low. When 
Nebuchadnezzar made Babylon the offering which he 
laid upon the shrine of his own glory, he was sent out 
a lowing maniac to eat grass with his own oxen. When 
the tribes of Israel, under Ahab, worshipped law, un- 
der the name of Baal, Jehovah shut off the dew and 
the rain for a season, that they might learn to trace 
his hand in all things. And if this practical atheism 
in common life and in philosophy continue to grow 
among us, we too may look for some signal chastise- 
ment, which will compel us to own that God in the 
thunder, whom we have slighted and despised in the 
constant beneficence which crowns our board. 

II. In the second place, let it be remarked that there 
are some who see God, but cannot eat or drink. They 
have a vivid sense of the personal existence of JehcH 



THE VISION OF GOD. 



119 



yah, and they feel him always near, but they take no 
comfort in his presence. Eather, it seems to haunt 
them as a spectre, and to threaten them as an execu- 
tioner. They are oppressed with the thought of his 
omnipresence, and would gladly be "anywhere, any- 
where," if only they could be out of the range of his 
all-seeing eye. Their feelings are thus more nearly 
allied to those of the Israelites at the base of Sinai, 
when they heard the voice of the Eternal from out of the 
thick darkness, and stood afar off, than to those of the 
elders when they sat down before him to eat and drink. 

Now how shall we account for this ? The answer is 
not far to seek. It is caused by a sense of guilt. So 
soon as man sinned he sought to hide himself from 
God, and nothing so appalled and terrified him as to 
be confronted with his Maker. This is evident from 
the accounts which the Bible contains of the different 
manifestations of Deity to different individuals. Thus 
at the burning bush, even Moses " trembled and durst 
not behold ; " and when the Covenant Angel came to 
Manoah, he was similarly disturbed. So, again, when 
Isaiah saw the glory of the Lord in the Temple, he 
cried, " Woe is me;" and when Peter beheld the 
Deity of Jesus through the miracle of the fishes, he 
exclaimed, "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, 
O Lord." Holiness and guilt are thus mutually re- 
pellant, and no man can have real happiness in the 
consciousness of God's nearness to him, until he is 
reconciled to him, and has his iniquities forgiven. 

You observe that between the shuddering of th-j 
people at the base of Sinai, and the feasting of their 
representatives on the mountain itself, there was the 
offering of sacrifice, and the entering into covenant 
with God. That accounts for the change in the mani- 
festation of Jehovah to them, and in their own views 



120 



THE VISION OF GOD. 



and feelings in reference to him. Whereas before they 
saw nothing but clouds and darkness, relieved occa- 
sionally by the lightning ; now they behold as it were 
" a paved work of sapphire-stone, and as it were the 
body of heaven in its clearness." Thus it matters 
everything as regards our feelings toward God whether 
we be in covenant with him over the sacrifice of his 
Son or not. If we are not, then ever as we see him he 
appears to us as he did to Israel when he proclaimed 
the law, and every tone of his voice is full of condem- 
nation and of menace. But if we are, then the nearer 
we get to him the more of joy we have, for through 
the gateway of the satisfaction of law we pass into the 
realization of his Fatherhood. "No man," says the 
Saviour, " cometh unto the Father, but by me." Others 
may lead us to God as the Great Supreme, and fill our 
hearts with dread at the thought of his existence. 
But only Jesus can reveal to us his Fatherhood ; and 
he has the right to do that only because by the sacri- 
fice of himself in our behalf he has made it possible 
for Jehovah righteously to receive us into his house- 
hold. Through sacrifice, thus, we enter into peace. 
They who by faith in Jesus have made a covenant 
with God, have all slavish dread and terror of Deity 
banished from their hearts, and can contemplate him 
with reverence indeed, but also with that "perfect 
love " which " casteth out fear." This is fundamen- 
tal ; and until, through the atonement made for us by 
our Great High-Priest, we get our sins forgiven, the 
very thought of God will drive happiness from our 
spirits. "Who is among you, therefore, that trembleth 
at the vision of Jehovah ? Let him repair to the altar, 
and as he sees there the Lamb of God bearing his 
sins, and is there sprinkled with the covenant blood, 
he will behold the clouds and darkness that are round 



THE VISION OF GOD. 



121 



about the throne disperse, and will sit down in calm 
security to feast with the King Eternal as his Father 
and his Friend. 

But even among those who, in the judgment not of 
charity alone, but of justice, have thus entered into 
covenant with Jehovah, there are some who seem to 
have had their happiness poisoned by the thought of 
God. They see him, they are always seeing him ; but 
the vision seems to have paralyzed them, and they go 
through life halting, solemn, and severe. It seems 
somehow as if all sprightliness had gone from them. 
They cannot laugh because God is at their side, and all 
spontaneousness and naturalness have been frightened 
out of their lives because of their awe-stricken sense 
of the proximity of Jehovah. It is not because they 
have no assurance of forgiveness, but because they 
have such a weird and distorted idea of the relation- 
ship of God to them. They never seem to have risen 
to the perception of his Fatherhood. " The glorious 
liberty of the children of God " is a phrase which has 
little significance for them. They have the idea that 
he is a master ; nay, that he is an austere and severe 
master, and so they are afraid of him. Their religion 
takes its hue from their conception of God, and has in 
its service an austerity and a severity similar to those 
which they ascribe to Jehovah. Thus the very strength 
of their faith — because their faith is not so much in a 
reconciled father as in an exacting master — gives a 
hard and bare rockiness to their experience. "We can 
see something of this even in such an one as John 
Milton, for all so much as he had outgrown the nar- 
rowness of his generation, when in one of his sonnets 
he says, 

"All is, if we have grace to use it so, 
As ever in the Great Taskmaster's eye,'* 
6 



122 



THE VISION OE GOD. 



"The Great Taskmaster!" Yes, that is how multi- 
tudes, who profess to sit at the feet of Jesus, and are 
really trusting in him for forgiveness, still regard Jeho- 
vah, and so long as they view him thus, they may " see 
him," but they " cannot eat and drink." The work- 
man is never happy when he has the consciousness 
that from a near loophole the employer's eye is con- 
stantly regarding him, to mark whether he is faithful 
to his trust. But he who is doing his utmost for his 
father, will always welcome the visit of his parent, and 
feel that when he comes into the factory he brings 
new sunshine with him. So, if Christians would " see 
God, and eat and drink," they must rise out of ser- 
vice into sonship, and learn to think and speak of God 
as their Father in heaven. This will give sincerity 
and naturalness to their devotions, activity to their 
lives, happiness to their hearts, and cheerfulness to 
their deportment, so that men, as they behold them, 
will be won by the very radiance of their joy to him 
from whom their gladness springs. 

But there are still others who, at certain times of 
their history, have had a vivid perception of the near- 
ness of God, while yet they could neither eat nor drink. 
Affliction has come upon them. Their business per- 
haps has become involved, or their households have 
been invaded by sickness or bereavement, or they 
have been assailed by the abuse of unscrupulous men, 
and that which ought to have been their greatest com- 
fort in their affliction has, strangely enough, added a 
new element to its bitterness. They have felt God very 
near them, but then they have felt as if he were hav- 
ing a controversy with them, as if, somehow, he were 
alienated from them, and that has made their sorrow 
all the deeper. But all this has sprung from a misin- 
terpretation of his providence, and that again has its 



THE VISION OF GOD. 



123 



root in the lack of faith in his fatherhood, whereof I 
have already spoken. For God does not change toward 
his people with the varying dispensations of his provi- 
dence. He loves them always as intensely as he did 
when he gave his Son to death in their behalf ; and 
like as a father doth with his children, so he does 
with them. He does not afflict willingly. His chas- 
tisements are not matters of passion or of caprice. 
They are sent in wisdom and in love, and when that is 
realized by the suffering and stricken one, all poison 
is extracted from his wounds, so that even on the 
very mount at the base of which he trembled, he 
can sit down, with God in view, and eat and drink. 

It comes then just to this, that in every case in 
which the thought of God interferes with happiness, 
the cause is either personal guilt or a false notion of 
God's character and providence, and all of these are 
rectified when we come to him through Jesus Christ, 
for " in him we have redemption through his blood, 
even the forgiveness of sins," and they who have be- 
lieved in him " have not received the spirit of bond- 
age again to fear ; but the spirit of adoption, whereby 
they cry, Abba, Father." In other words, they " see 
God, and do eat and drink." 

III. Finally, let it be observed, that there are some 
who, like those here described, " see God and do eat 
and drink." They are reconciled to God through Jesus 
Christ, his Son ; they have learned to call him Father, 
and the joy of their lives is that they have a constant 
sense of his presence. "When they say, "Thou God 
seest me," it is not with a feeling of uneasiness, like 
that of a suspected person who feels himself watched 
by some detective ; but rather with an emotion of satis- 
faction, because they know that one is beside them who 



124 



THE YISION OF GOD. 



can make provision for every emerging necessity, and 
find for them also, as for Hagar, a fountain in the des- 
ert. When they think of him, it is not so much as the 
Great Creator, Ruler, and Judge, as the Father ; and 
because they can say " Our Father," they have a sense 
of ownership in all his attributes and possessions. 
They have accepted his own assurance, " I am the Lord 
thy God," and his omnipresence is the very joy and 
rejoicing of their hearts. He is not simply "the back- 
ground" of their lives, but rather the very sunshine 
in which their whole experience is bathed. What the 
light is to the landscape, revealing all its beauties and 
painting all its flowers with their variegated hues, that 
God is to their lives. Their food is sweeter, because it 
comes from his paternal hand. Their success is more 
delightful, because they can trace it to his goodness. 
Their very afflictions are transmuted into blessings 
when they think of them as coming from his love. 
Nor is this all : the works of nature — if I may use that 
phrase, which seems so atheistic — the works of nature 
have new interest in their eyes, because they trace 
them to his hands. And the providence of every day, 
as it is spread out before them in the public prints, has 
an intensified importance in their view, because it is 
the providence of their Father. Then, on the other 
side, the work in which they are engaged from day to 
day becomes a sacrificial thing, for they are offering it 
to him. Their study of history is a perusal of a new 
volume of his Word, for still " he doeth according to 
his will among the inhabitants of the earth." And even 
science, which so many in these days falsely accuse of 
being essentially atheistic, acquires a holy dignity in 
their eyes, because it is the unfolding of his works 
who made all things very good. The very landscape 
has new beauty, because they see him as they look 



The vision of god. 



upon it. What the quiet, undemonstrative bard of 
Olney has so beautifully said, speaking doubtless from 
his own experience, is true of each of them : 

" He looks abroad into the varied field 
Of nature, and though poor, perhaps, compar'd 
With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, 
Calls the delightful scenery all his own. 
His are the mountains, and the valleys his, 
And the resplendent rivers. His to enjoy 
With a propriety that none can feel, 
But who, with filial confidence inspired 
Can lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye, 
And smiling, say, ' My Father made them all.' " 

Thus the sense of God's presence, or the vision of 
God by the inner eye of faith, as he has revealed him- 
self through Christ, mitigates our afflictions, and gives 
a new and distinctive element of enjoyment to our 
blessings. It is not a melancholy thing, which poisons 
every other experience. It is not, like the sword of 
Damocles, a threatening thing, that keeps us from sit- 
ting down to the feast. Rather it is itself that which 
gives the feast its real glory, and the festival to us 
is twice a feast because he is there. He makes the 
brightest element in our blessings ; he gives to us the 
real joy of our prosperity. And when affliction comes 
he mitigates it with his sympathy and cheers us under 
it with his fellowship. He comes to us not as a spectre 
in the night, but as a father, to lap us in the mantle of 
his love. "Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure," 
alike are sanctified by his presence, and no darkness 
for us could be so dense as that which would envelop 
us if we were to be deprived of him. It seems but a 
small matter to the materialist to say, with flippant 
thoughtlessness, " We know nothing of God." But his 
atheism is my orphanhood, and I cannot, I will not, 



126 



THE VISION OF GOt>. 



let him rob me of my Father. One of the darkest 
nights of my life was when I lost my earthly father ; 
yet by and by that night ended in day, because I " saw 
God, and did eat and drink." But to be deprived of 
God ! To be driven into the dark negation, " No God ! 
no God! " Ah! that were a still blacker night, with 
no succeeding day ; and nothing can drive me into 
such a dreary region of darkness unrelieved! No! 
thanks be to the revelation of Jesus Christ, I have 
learned to know God as my Father, and his presence, 
unlike that of the grinning mummy at the Egyptian 
feasts, has no terror in it, for I " see him, and can eat 
and drink." 

To which of these three classes, my hearer, do you 
belong ? Are you among those who eat and drink, but 
do not see God ? or among those who see God, but do 
not eat and drink ? or among those who see God, and 
eat and drink ? Examine and see ; and if you have no 
joy in your thought of Jehovah, or if you have no 
thought of him at all, let me beseech you now to let 
Jesus introduce you to him as the Father, and then 
the presence of the Lord with you will become the 
very sunshine of your hearts ; for the confidential fel- 
lowship of Paradise will be restored, and you will 
walk with him not in the cool of the day merely, but 
through all its happy hours. Try this, my hearer ; it 
will sanctify sorrow and sweeten pain, and make even 
prosperity more joyous ; and when death comes to 
you, it will only introduce you to that celestial abode, 
where, in the highest sense which the words can ex- 
press, it will still be true of its inhabitants that they 
" see God, and do eat and drink." 



WHO IS THIS? 



Matthew xxi. 10. — " And when he was come into Jerusalem, all 
the city was moved, saying, Who is this ? " 

It was the first day of that memorable week on 
which the Son of Man was crucified. One last appeal 
was to be made by him to the people of his own 
nation, and that it might be formally presented he 
entered Jerusalem as a king and claimed the alle- 
giance which ^as his due. As he rode along, his im- 
mediate followers attended by a great multitude scat- 
tered palm branches on the way, and rent the air with 
their hosannas. But when he had reached the heart 
of the city the whole population was stirred, and one 
question rose to every lip, " Who is this ? " The ques- 
tion of that day is the question of this age. Let us 
see if we can give it any satisfactory answer. 

Every man who reads the New Testament with at- 
tention must form some judgment about Jesus Christ. 
He may not express it fully to others, or even formu- 
late it distinctly to himself, but he cannot help com- 
ing to some decision regarding him which in due 
season will influence his life. Other books may, and 
frequently do treat of subjects concerning which we 
are not called to come to any determination, or on 
which we may not have interest enough to stir us 
up to form a judgment. It is of no great moment to 
me, for example, whether beauty have its seat in the 
object looked at or in the soul that is looking at it, 
and philosophers may debate about that as long as 

127 



128 



WHO IS THIS ? 



they please without affecting me in any way by their 
discussions, for, however they may settle it, I will 
continue to enjoy as much as ever the delicate color- 
ing of the violet, the blue expanse of the sky, the 
gilded glory of a gorgeous sunset, and the sparkling 
majesty of the midnight heavens. So again, what call 
have I now to settle such questions as these, " Was 
Brutus justified in taking part in the assassination of 
Caesar ? " " Was the execution of the first Charles a 
righteous act?" "Who wrote the letters of Junius? " 
These and similar historical and literary topics may 
occupy the youths in our debating societies, and may 
be useful enough to them as whetstones for the sharp- 
ening of their intellectual powers ; but their settle- 
ment one way or another is not required of us by any 
imperious regard for our own temporal or eternal in- 
terests. 

In the case of the New Testament, however, it is 
quite otherwise, for that book raises questions which 
touch the heart, the history, and the destiny of every 
man, and no careful reader of it can lay it down with- 
out feeling himself compelled to come to some decision 
about its statements. Now to ascertain what that de- 
cision is, we have simply to put the question of my 
text, since Jesus Christ is so identified with the con- 
tents of this book that a man's thoughts of it will 
largely determine what he thinks of him, and his view 
of Christ will, on the other hand, in a great degree 
determine what he thinks of it. This, then, is a testing 
inquiry. It touches the very central object of revela- 
tion, and enables us at once to come to an issue with 
ourselves on the great matters of sin, salvation, incar- 
nation, atonement, retribution — in short, on all those 
topics which arise out of or are connected with our 
relation to God. According as we answer it we take 



WHO IS THIS ? 



129 



bur places with Christ or against him, and our reply 
will determine at once our religious creed and our 
ordinary conduct. 

It will determine our religious creed, for if we be- 
lieve that Jesus Christ was an impostor, then we must 
also deny that the Bible is a revelation from God, and 
throw ourselves back upon the dim and misty vague^ 
ness of mere natural religion. If again we regard 
Jesus Christ as only a man, a distinguished man, even 
perhaps the very greatest of men, then we thereby 
deny the universal depravity of the race, maintain the 
ability of man to save himself, repudiate the sacrificial 
character of the death of Christ, and declare that all 
he did was to leave us an example that we should fol- 
low his steps. 

On the other hand, if we take the view which is pre- 
sented to us by the evangelists and apostles, that 
Christ is the incarnate God, then out of this there of 
necessity arise these other truths : that man is fallen 
and needs a Saviour ; that no one can save him but 
the Son of God in human nature ; that even he could 
save him only by his obedience unto death in the room 
of the race ; and that now he is exalted to give re- 
pentance and the remission of sins. Thus all the 
articles of a man's creed are, in some sort, involved 
in the view which he takes of the person of Jesus 
Christ. 

Nay, even as regards these other questions, of which 
so much is said now, as to the possibility and reality 
of miracles, the nature and effects of divine inspi- 
ration, and the proper method of Scripture interpre- 
tation, a man's views will be shaped by the answer 
which first and before all he has been led to give to 
the inquiry in my text. If Jesus be incarnate God, 
then the miracles, instead of presenting difficulties, 
6* 



130 



Who is this? 



are works which it was perfectly natural for him to 
do ; while, if his divine dignity be denied, there is no 
longer any use in retaining faith in the reality of his 
miracles. 

But not alone in the settlement of such doctrinal 
matters does this question affect us ; the reply which 
we are led to give to it determines also our daily char- 
acter and conduct. Is Christ a mere man, no more to 
me than any other of the great teachers whom the 
world has seen ? Then I will prosecute my work on 
earth as independently of him as I do of Socrates, or 
Plato, or Zeno, or Seneca, or any other of the great 
moralists of the past. He has no intimate connec- 
tion with me, and my life will be affected by him only 
as slightly as it is by some far-off fellow-mortal. The 
influence which he has on me will only be that of a 
man, separated, too, by long centuries from the stir- 
ring tumult and busy activity of this modern age. His 
words may dwell in my memory like those of some 
Grecian sage, and now and then I may turn to them 
and read them anew, as the scholar reads the dialogues 
of Plato, to have my admiration excited, and my intel- 
lect stimulated ; but that is all. He will not preside 
over my life, and I will not feel myself under any obli- 
gation to do or to refrain from doing anything out of 
regard to him. 

But if it be that he is incarnate Deity, the Son of 
God, and yet the Son of Man, the Lamb of God that 
taketh away the sin of the world ; if it be that, as our 
Mediator and Redeemer, he died for our sins, and rose 
again for our justification, and is even now at the right 
hand of God, then my belief in him as such puts a 
new spirit in me and gives me a new motive, yea, 
changes for me the whole significance of life. Moral- 
ity henceforward becomes for me "the love of him." 



WHO IS THIS? 



131 



Everything I do, I try to do for him. I endeavor to 
reproduce, as far as I may, his life in mine, and every 
object in external nature becomes to me a preacher, 
and a memorial of him. That beautiful star, last in 
the train of night and first in the forehead of the 
morn, sings to me of Him who is " the root and the 
offspring of David, and the bright and morning star ; " 
that sun shedding his benignant rays over the earth, 
tells me evermore of Him who is " the sun of right- 
eousness with healing under his wings ; " the bread 
which I eat comes to me as a symbol of Him who is 
" the bread of life ; " the water which I drink reminds 
me of the living water whereof who drinks shall 
never thirst again ; yea, now Christ is seen in every- 
thing, and everything is done for Christ. 

Now when to these considerations you add that in 
this book Christ is represented as having many times 
over claimed to be incarnate God, you will see how 
impossible it is to read it without feeling one's self 
forced to decide whether he is so or not ; and you will 
begin to understand how in this age of controversy 
the battle has kept narrowing in and in until now it 
is being fought entirely on the question of my text. 
The " Lives of Christ " which this generation alone 
has seen would make of themselves, for size at least, 
a very respectable library. The free-thinker feels that 
if he would make good his negations, he must by all 
means demolish this claim which Christ has put forth. 
He can neither accept him nor leave him alone, and 
the humble Christian is led by passionate devotion to 
his Lord to defend his claim with all his skill. This 
is felt by both alike to be the key of the position, and 
when such a conflict is waging we must take a side. 
We cannot help ourselves. Y/ e are already with the 
one party or the other. 



132 



WHO IS THIS ? 



What, then, do we think of Christ ? Who, then, is 
Christ ? There are mainly four answers which have 
been given to this question. Some have written him 
down as deceiver ; some have regarded him as a self- 
deluded enthusiast ; some have rested in the convic- 
tion that he is merely a man, and others have accepted 
his own testimony and believe that he is the incarna- 
tion of Deity. 

It is scarcely likely that there should be any one 
here this morning who believes that Jesus was an in- 
tentional and deliberate impostor ; but if there should, 
it is pertinent to say to such an one, that if Christ 
designed to deceive he very evidently went the wrong 
way about it. An impostor invariably takes the path- 
way to immediate success. He will not provoke un- 
necessary hostility, lest his claims should be too 
minutely investigated and their hollowness exposed. 
He trims his sails as the wind of popular opinion 
blows, and seeks to go continually before it. Now it 
is well known to every student that in the time of 
Christ the Jews' ideal of what their Messiah was to 
be was entirely different from that which Jesus pre- 
sented. They expected him to be a temporal prince, 
and hoped that he would deliver them from that for- 
eign dominion under which they groaned. Nay, even 
the disciples of Jesus themselves were found nursing 
this fond anticipation, and repeatedly expressed the 
same view which was cherished by the common peo- 
ple. On one occasion, indeed, there seemed nothing 
wanting on his part to secure the universal adherence 
of the multitude to him as Messiah, but the proc- 
lamation of his earthly royalty. Yet he refused to 
yield to the popular clamor, and because he would 
not be the king they wanted, many went back and 
walked no more with him. Here, then, is a circum- 



Who is tms? 



133 



stance which is utterly inconsistent with the idea that 
he meant to deceive. 

Moreover, it is impossible to conceive that one hav- 
ing the moral qualities which the evangelists have 
portrayed in their description of Jesus, could have 
intended to impose upon mankind. Consider the at- 
tributes of character by which he was distinguished. 
His meekness and humility were equalled only by his 
honesty and benevolence. There was about him a con- 
scientious thoroughness which was carried out at 
every sacrifice, and his Sermon on the Mount evinces 
that, above and beyond all other things in religion, he 
delighted " in truth in the inward parts," and held in 
utter abhorrence that cold and hollow ritualism which 
is content with " the form of godliness " while " deny-> 
ing its power." He never enticed a man to follow him 
by false pretences. He never sought to gain adher- 
ents by dazzling the eyes of his hearers with bright 
visions of unbroken ease. He said, " If any man will 
come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his 
cross daily and follow me." He desired those who 
came to him to "count the cost," lest, meeting unex- 
pected difficulties, they should be discouraged. Now, 
if he was thus frank, fair, and candid in this matter, 
is it consistent with probability to suppose that he 
was deceitful in regard to the claims which he put 
forth to be received as the Son of God ? 

But if this view of Jesus Christ be untenable, 
equally so is that which would explain his preten- 
sions (so called), by alleging that he was a fanatic or 
enthusiast. Let it be remembered that the records 
which contain the story of his claims do, at the 
same time, give such an account of his sayings and 
doings as produces upon us the impression that his 
mind was pre-eminently healthy, and his intellect ad- 



134 



WHO IS THIS? 



mirably balanced. As he is here represented to us, 
he is mentally full-orbed and complete. In other men 
we discover that, no matter how great they are in 
some respects, they are signally deficient in others ; 
but in Jesus we have "the vision and the faculty 
divine " by which the poet is distinguished, and along 
with that the philosophic character in its highest 
development, while at the same time we have the saga- 
city and shrewd common-sense of a most practical 
man. There is in him thus a wonderful harmony of 
intellectual opposites, and we cannot read the account 
of his treatment of the different classes of men with 
whom he came into contact without having the con- 
viction forced upon us that he was no crazy fanatic or 
hair-brained enthusiast. Even Renan admits that "his 
admirable good-sense guided him with marvellous 
certainty," that his "leading quality was an infinite 
delicacy," and that "he laid, with rare forethought, 
the foundations of a church destined to endure." But 
if all this be so, we cannot accept the hypothesis which 
accounts for the claims which he put forth by alleging 
that he was a weak enthusiast. 

Yet if he were neither a wilful deceiver nor a de- 
luded fanatic, is it possible to rest in the view that he 
was a mere man? This is the position taken by many 
in these days. They believe in the intellectual great- 
ness and moral pre-eminence of Jesus. They are as 
far as we are from imputing to him anything like 
falsehood or fanaticism, yet they falter at the accept- 
ance of his Deity, and regard him as only a man — in 
some respects the greatest of men, but still no more 
than a man. Now over against this it might be 
enough to set the unique character of these sacred 
memoirs. There is in them a quality which you search 
in vain for elsewhere, and which the soul instinctively 



Who is this? 



135 



recognizes as divine. You know at once the differ- 
ence between divine and human products in other 
things. You do not mistake the Nantucket light for a 
star, and in looking over a beautiful landscape you 
can easily tell what is man's work in it and what is 
God's. So I think it is with these four biogra- 
phies. You read the lives of earth's greatest ones, 
and you feel that after all they were but men. You 
read these sketches, and you are constrained to say 
that Jesus was more than man. There is a clearly 
perceived difference between him and men in general, 
a difference as marked as that between the lakelet 
which the merchant has made to adorn his park, and 
the beautiful Lake George sleeping on a summer even- 
ing among the hills. You may not be able all at once 
to define what it is ; but you feel it instinctively, 
and when you have pondered awhile you begin to un- 
derstand it, so that you write over each of the gospels, 
"Jehovah shammah, the Lord is there." 

To some, however, it may appear that in thus put- 
ting the case I am evading the question, and though 
in a matter like this I believe that the intuition of the 
heart is really of more value than the logic of the 
head, I shall not shrink from going farther, and pre- 
senting weighty reasons for my acceptance of Jesus 
Christ as the God-man. 

Let me say, then, that the merely humanitarian view 
of the person of Christ involves in it the gravest intel- 
lectual difficulties. Put the supposition that a young 
Jew, educated at Nazareth, and living there as a com- 
mon carpenter till his thirtieth year, came forth at 
that age before his people and spoke the discourses 
which are here attributed to Jesus Christ. I say 
nothing now about his miracles — indeed, throughout 
my argument, I shall not place any weight upon them 



136 



WHO IS THIS:* 



—but I restrict myself to his discourses. See what a 
depth of philosophic insight they evince. Behold 
what a grasp of moral principles they take. Mark 
with what originality they are characterized. They 
who listened to him, even with prepossessions of an- 
tagonism to him in their hearts, were constrained to 
say, "Never man spake like this man." How then 
shall we account for the genesis of such an intellect ? 

He could have learned nothing from the philoso- 
phers of Greece, for the limitations of his circumstances 
prevented him from becoming acquainted with their 
works. He was not beholden to any of the schools of 
thought in his own country, for scribe and Pharisee 
were alike condemned by his far-reaching utterances. 
Usually, when a great man appears, there is something 
in his age or education that will in some measure ac- 
count for his pre-eminence. But there was nothing in 
the Palestine of his day that can in any degree explain 
the excellence of Christ. The noblest thinkers of the 
world have not been isolated peaks standing out in 
solitary grandeur from some level plain. Rather they 
have been, so to say, the highest summits of a moun- 
tain range of great ones. But Christ stood alone. 

And there was something peculiar in his intellectual 
solitude. The difference between him and other think- 
ers was not such as that, for example, between Shake- 
speare and other authors. You know all through that 
Shakespeare belongs to the same species as the others, 
but Christ constitutes an entire genus by himself. Of 
Shakespeare the highest thing that has been said is 
probably this, that " in his soul, as in a mirror, were 
concentrated all the lights radiating from every point 
of human observation, and from his soul, as from a 
mirror, those lights were reflected back in every pos- 
sible combination of beauty and sublimity, of wisdom 



WHO IS THIS? 



137 



and wit, of pathos and humor." But Jesus Christ was 
something else than a mirror reflecting that which 
was on earth around him. He brought something 
that no human observation could have taught, and 
which none of the influences at work in the society of 
his time could have developed. The difference be- 
tween a Socrates or a Milton and other authors is one 
of degree ; that between Jesus Christ and other teach- 
ers is one of kind. In the midst of animosities of the 
most bitter and bloodthirsty sort, he lifted up his 
voice to say, "Love your enemies, bless them that 
curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use 
you, and persecute you." In an age when the most de- 
grading idolatry was common among the Gentiles, he 
taught that " God is a Spirit," and at a time when for- 
malism was prevalent among the Jews, he declared 
that "they who worship God should worship him in 
spirit and in truth." Where others faltered or feared to 
tread — as, for example, in treating the matter of a fut- 
ure state — he walked with steady footsteps ; and what 
the highest philosophers of antiquity strained after 
with utmost effort, and stood as it were on tiptoe even 
to touch, he handled with the greatest ease. Compare 
the Sermon on the Mount, or the discourses recorded in 
the eighteenth and twenty-third chapters of Matthew's 
Gospel, and the fourth and sixth chapters of John's, 
with the utterances of the most exalted teachers, and 
then say if it be conceivable that he who delivered them 
was no more than a Jewish country artisan, whose 
life had been spent in one of the lowest villages of the 
most illiterate portion of the land ? The longer you 
dwell on the merely intellectual qualities of the teach- 
ings of Christ, the harder will it be for you, consider- 
ing his age and the outward disadvantages of his early 
life, to believe that he was no more than a man. 



138 



WHO IS THIS? 



But the difficulties which beset the humanitarian 
view of the Saviour's person, from the intellectual 
side, are as nothing compared with those which it has 
to encounter on the moral. Remember the honesty 
and integrity by which he was characterized, and then 
say how these qualities are to be reconciled with the 
claims which he put forth as one who had come 
down from heaven for the express purpose of teaching 
celestial things, if these claims were not well founded. 
He enforced humility upon his followers, saying, 
" Learn of me ; for I am lowly ; " and again, " He 
that is greatest among you, let him be your servant, 
even as the Son of Man came not to be ministered 
unto, but to minister." Yet how, if he were not really 
God, can you harmonize that with the fact that he was 
himself the central theme of all his discourses ? for he 
said, "I am the light of the world," "I am the living 
bread," " I am the good shepherd," " I am the resur- 
rection, and the life," "I am the way, the truth, and 
the life," "I am the true vine." He insisted upon the 
most uncompromising adherence to truth in all those 
who came unto him. Yet how, if he were not divine, 
can that be consistent with his own promise of rest 
and eternal life to those who came to him? If we 
accept the doctrine of his Deity, we can see how all 
these were in perfect harmony ; but if we believe that 
he was no more than a man, then I fear we shall be 
compelled also to give up our faith in his truthfulness 
and humility, and so we are driven back on the utterly 
untenable position that he was an intentional deceiver 
or a foolish fanatic. 

It would be wrong, however, to leave the considera- 
tion of this subject without dwelling, even though it 
should be in the very briefest manner, upon the testi- 
mony which is borne by history to the Deity of Christ. 



WHO IS THIS? 



139 



It is the nature of moral evil to propagate itself. Its 
inherent tendency is to increase. Men have never 
yet of themselves been able to keep themselves from 
becoming worse. When putrefaction or corruption 
begins in any material substance it spreads over the 
whole mass. It cannot arrest its own progress. It 
cannot purify itself. If it is to be counteracted at all 
it must be by the introduction of some antiseptic agent 
which, coming into contact with it, will bring a curative 
force to bear upon it. Now just this Christ has done 
for the human race, and the inference is that because 
he has arrested the progress of the world's corrup- 
tion, he must be something higher and better than a 
man. If you would have a crucial instance by which 
the powerlessness of the world to arrest its corruption 
is demonstrated, and the efficacy of Christ to meet its 
need displayed, look at Greece. Perhaps the highest 
culture ever reached without Christianity was in that 
land. There you had the most musical language, the 
most exalted poetry, the loftiest eloquence, the noblest 
art, and the acutest philosophy, but what were the 
people morally and religiously? Read The History of 
Morals, by Mr. Lecky, and you will find that society 
was there one festering mass of corruption. All this 
went on until a man of Tarsus made his appearance 
preaching the Incarnation, and telling his hearers of 
the God-man, the only mediator and priest of the 
human race, and then even in Corinth, the very capi- 
tal of the country's iniquity, a check was given to the 
prevailing impurity, so that after naming some of the 
worst forms of vice he could say to his correspondents 
there, " Such were some of you : but ye are washed, 
but ye are sanctified, in the name of the Lord Jesus, 
and by the Spirit of our God." Nor was this a soli- 
tary instance ; Christ turned the tide for all after-time, 



140 



WHO IS THIS ? 



and to-day the sole corrective agents at work npon the 
moral and spiritual condition of men may be traced to 
Christianity. 

Now if this be so, can we suppose that Christianity 
is a merely human device ? You cannot cure a poi- 
sonous fountain by water taken from itself. You can- 
not change the character of the upas tree by one of 
its own fruits. No more can you regenerate humanity 
by that which is only human. If Christianity purifies 
those who believe in it, then it is not of men but of 
God, and if Christianity be from God, the Christ in 
whom it centres is God. 

Thus the only way of escape from hopeless difficulty 
of an intellectual, moral, and historical sort, is to ac- 
cept it as a fact that Jesus Christ is God and man in 
one person. And when we get to that elevation, and 
survey therefrom the gospel history, everything in it 
falls beautifully and harmoniously into its place. The 
miracles are seen then to be as appropriate to him as 
his crown and sceptre are to a king. The glory of his 
birth, baptism, and transfiguration is at once explained. 
The mystery of his death begins to be comprehended 
by us, and the majesty of his resurrection and ascen- 
sion is no longer strange. That which before was a 
perplexing enigma is now a clear and consistent his- 
tory, and we feel as we never felt before the meaning 
of that matchless litany, " By the mystery of thy holy 
Incarnation, Good Lord deliver us." 

But now, supposing that we all receive Jesus as the 
Christ, the Son of God — what then ? What is involved 
in that reception? It involves, first, that we should 
implicitly believe his teachings. It is a mockery for 
one to say that he believes in the Deity of Christ, and 
then to cavil at his words or to deny their truth. If 



WHO IS THIS? 



141 



faith in him as the Son of God be a genuine thing it 
will lead to unquestioning acceptance of his state- 
ments, ay, even though we may not be quite able to 
comprehend their full significance. We may learn 
here from that Martha who has been by many so mis- 
understood. When Jesus came to Bethany and met 
her after the death of Lazarus, he replied to her out- 
burst of grief in these words, "Thy brother shall rise 
again." She answered, "I know that he shall rise 
again in the resurrection at the last day ;" and when to 
this he rejoined, " I am the resurrection, and the life : 
he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall 
he live : and whosoever liveth and believeth in me 
shall never die. Belie vest thou this ? " she respond- 
ed, " Yea, Lord : I believe that thou art the Christ, 
the Son of God, which should come into the world." 
As if she had said, "I cannot quite understand thy 
meaning ; but whatever it be, I am ready to believe it 
on thy word, for I believe thee to be the Son of God." 
There was true, unwavering faith, which accepted the 
teachings because it trusted the teacher ! and if our 
reception of Jesus Christ as the God-man be good for 
anything at all, it ought to carry in it this implicit and 
unquestioning belief in his words. 

Further, if we believe ' that Jesus Christ is the God- 
man, there is involved in that an obligation to rely 
alone on his atoning work for our salvation. It is no 
true faith in the Deity of Christ which can keep a 
man at the weariful drudgery of trying to save him- 
self by his own good deeds, or can permit him to 
doubt that Christ is able to save him. Ah ! poor 
anxious sinner, that art tormenting thyself with the 
thought that thine iniquities are too great for his 
blood to wash away, lift thine eyes for a moment from 
the contemplation of thy guilt, and tell me what thou 



142 



WHO IS THIS? 



tliinkest of Christ. Dost thou believe with Martha 
that he is the Christ, the Son of God ? Then whence 
all thy darkness and despair ? Does the work of such 
an one need to be supplemented by thine ? Are the 
assurances of such an one hypocritical and insincere ? 
When he says, " him that cometh unto me, I will in no 
wise cast out," is he not speaking with divine sin- 
cerity as well as tenderness? and when, upon the 
cross, he shouted, " It is finished ! " did he not mean 
what he said ? Let thy mind rest thus on the all-suffi- 
ciency of his work and the truthfulness of his Word, 
as those of a divine person, and then thy despair will 
hide itself, as the darkness hides from the brightness 
of the noonday. 

Finally, if we receive Christ as the God-man, there 
is involved in that reception an obligation to obey his 
commandments. " Why call ye me, Lord, Lord ! " 
says he, " and do not the things which I say ? " Breth- 
ren, the practical rejection of our Lord's divinity by 
the disobedience of our lives is a more prevalent 
heresy than the theoretic denial of his Deity, and it is 
far more insidious and pestilential. How many are 
there who profess in their creed that Jesus is the 
Christ, the Lord of all, but yet continually exclude 
him from the sovereignty of their hearts and lives ? 
But what hypocritical inconsistency is this ? If Christ 
be God, the only rightful ruler over the heart, then 
what have the world and pleasure and mammon and 
sin to do in the high places of that heart ? Have you 
given him, are you now giving him, the lordship of 
your lives ? If not, let me beseech you to do so now. 
Begin where Paul began, with the question, "Lord, 
what wilt thou have me to do ? " and follow on as Paul 
followed on, keeping the word of the Christ, at the 
sacrifice of everything that came into collision with it, 



WHO IS THIS? 



143 



Then when the question is asked, Who is this? the 
answer will come, not in words, but in deeds, in char- 
acter, in the influence of your whole earthly career, 
and it will be to this effect : " He is more than all the 
world to me. He is my teacher, my friend, my Re- 
deemer, my life, my joy, my hope, my Lord, and my 
God!" 



IF NOT TO CHEIST THEN TO WHOM! 



John vi. 68, 69. — " To whom shall we go? thou hast the woids 
of eternal life." 

These are Peter's words, and they are like his own 
noble and magnanimous self. They sprang from the 
love of his heart, and yet they were deeply rooted also 
in the conviction of his head. We wrong that devoted 
apostle when we regard him as a mere creature of im- 
pulse, or seek to make it appear that his adherence to 
Jesus was more a matter of emotion than intelligence. 
It was the quickness and clearness of his intellectual 
perceptions that made his impulses so rapid ; and 
though his language was occasionally thoughtless, his 
faith was no blind credulity, but a rational and well- 
founded belief. We cannot forget that even the clear- 
sighted intuition of John did not arrive at a proper 
idea of the Saviour's person so speedily as did the 
intellectual acumen of Peter. It was Peter and not 
John who was the first to say, " Thou art that Christ, 
the Son of the living God;" and when many were 
leaving Jesus because he would not allow them to 
make him an earthly king, it was Peter and not J ohn 
who made the noble answer which I have read as my 
text. 

The circumstances were peculiarly affecting. The 
spiritual and searching character of the Saviour's 
words concerning the bread of life had offended the 
multitude, and they who yesterday had crowded round 
him to be fed at his hands, were now deserting him 

144 



IF NOT TO CHEIS1 THEN TO WHOM? 



145 



in mingled anger and derision ; when, turning in ten- 
derness to his little band of disciples, he said, " "Will 
ye also go away? " and Peter, rising to the occasion, 
answered, "Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast 
the words of eternal life. And we believe and are sure 
that thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God." 

" To whom shall we go ? " That is the first ques- 
tion that presents itself when a man awakes to moral 
consciousness, and feels those inarticulate longings 
within him which reveal that he is not as he ought to 
be. The heathen philosopher Plato attempted to ac- 
count for these spiritual yearnings by regarding them 
as the result of the reminiscences of a former state of 
existence, in which the soul had seen the perfect ideas 
of things which are now somehow lost, and we, with 
the Bible in our hands, can see how near that was to the 
Scripture doctrine of the Fall. The soul is not what 
it once was, or what it was designed to be. From 
the very grandeur of its ruins man has learned that it 
was made to be a glorious temple for Jehovah's abode ; 
but, alas ! he has learned also, by many painful fail- 
ures, that he cannot, of himself, reconstruct that spir- 
itual edifice. Like the strain of some sweet song 
which one cannot himself recall, but which lives so in 
the memory that he can at once recognize it when it is 
sung by another ; like a name which one is sure he 
knows, but cannot with all his ingenuity recollect, 
though he can say what it is not, and can identify it 
the moment it is pronounced by other lips, — so is the 
lost ideal of the human soul to the heart that is strain- 
ing after its attainment. The soul is not what it once 
was. It feels it cannot make itself what it once was. 
Its constant cry is, " Who will restore my true self to 
me?" Nay, more, it recognizes that forgotten great- 
ness when it sees it again. It is not to be imposed 
7 



146 IF NOT TO CHRIST THEN TO WHOM? 

upon by any deceit. It can say, and it does say, when 
one specimen is offered, " That is not what I seek ; " 
and when another is presented, " That is not what I 
need ; " but when it finds Christ, it identifies its long- 
lost manhood in him, and exclaims, "Now I have 
found myself. Rejoice, with me, for I have recovered 
the piece which was lost." The school-boy with his 
dissected map fits fragment to fragment until at length 
there is but one vacant space left, and he searches 
everywhere for that which is to fill it. He cannot 
make it himself, but when it is brought to him he 
knows it is the right one, because it fits into every 
crook and corner of the empty place, and you cannct 
get him to take another. So the soul recognizes Chrisv. 
because he meets its need, fills in its outlines, satisfies 
its longings, and translates into the language of definite 
conception those vague and shadowy aspirations which 
formerly could not formulate themselves into speech. 

But besides these sighings after perfection, which of 
themselves might mark that the soul has fallen, there 
is within each of us a sense of guilt. Our conscience 
tells us that we have sinned, and beneath the burden 
of its guilt the spirit groans, " "Who will help me?" 
We feel we are under condemnation, and we seek for 
deliverance. As when one finds that he is suffering 
from a physical disease his first question is, For what 
medical man shall I send ? so, when the sinner awakes 
to the consciousness of his guilt, his first cry is, " To 
whom shall I go ? " He must go somewhere. He 
cannot contentedly remain where and as he is. He 
must apply to some one, and according as he deter- 
mines to whom he shall repair, the issue will be salu- 
tary or disastrous. An all-important question is this, 
" To whom shall I go ? " Some of you, my hearers, 
have settled it long ago, and have been with Jesus 



IF NOT TO CHRIST THEN TO WHOM? 



147 



ever since. But there may be some of you still unset- 
tled concerning it, and some perhaps may have, for 
the time at least, given it a wrong answer; there- 
fore I crave your attention for a little, that, by the aid 
of the Holy Spirit, I may set before you some consid- 
erations which may lead you to look to Jesus for the 
life and the happiness for which you long. 

To the inquiring Jew, in the Saviour's day, who 
wished to settle this question, there were four rival 
systems claiming his attention ; for, besides the follow- 
ers of the Gospel of the Kingdom which J esus preach- 
ed, there were three different schools of thought in the 
land. There were the Sadducees, the Pharisees, and 
the Essenes. The Sadducees were the skeptics of the 
Jewish nation. They had no faith in the supernatural, 
or in the future life. They maintained that there was 
no resurrection, neither angel nor spirit. Beginning 
in a healthy reaction against the interpretations and 
traditions of the Pharisees, and claiming to stand on 
the ground of the Old Testament Scriptures, they at 
length degenerated into rationalism, and ended in 
what was practically unbelief, much in the same way 
as in modern Germany the valiant protest of Luther 
against human authority in matters of belief has in 
many instances been carried into the extreme of infi- 
delity. 

The Pharisees, again, were the high ritualists of the 
ancient Jewish Church. They conformed to the letter 
of the Mosaic enactments, and, not content with that, 
they added a great many things which they professed 
to have received by tradition, and which they regard- 
ed as equally important with the written precepts of 
the Pentateuch. Theirs was a religion of externalism. 

The Essenes were the ascetics of their age, "We do 



148 



IF NOT TO CHEIST THEN TO WHOM? 



not come into contact with them in the gospel, proba- 
bly because they withdrew altogether from general 
society, and formed a separate community which lived 
apart from the world. They were the pro to types of 
Monasticism, and sought by meditation, prayer, and 
self-denial to attain that perfection of character for 
which they longed. 

Now I have been particular in enumerating and 
characterizing these three sects, because the forms of 
error which they represented have existed in all ages, 
and because, singularly enough, the choice of the soul, 
even in these days, falls to be made between one or 
other of them and Christ. Still, as of yore, we have 
to decide whether we shall adopt a system of nega- 
tion, which is skepticism ; a system of outward form 
or ceremony, which is ritualism ; a system of self- 
commendation to the Almighty, which is asceticism ; 
or the truth as it is in Jesus, which is spirit and life. 
Let us look at each of these : 

Shall we go, then, in the first place to skepticism ? 
Is there anything in that to commend it to our accept- 
ance ? Surely no ! See how it treats the disease of 
the human soul ! It seeks to cure its malady by deny- 
ing the existence of any malady within it ! It regards 
the fears of the soul as unmanly, and its convictions 
as superstitions. But what satisfaction can that give ? 
Can you appease the hunger of a man by trying to 
reason him into the belief that there is no necessity 
for his hunger ? "Will he not turn angrily away from 
you, saying, " Necessity or not, I am hungry, and argu- 
ment will not suffice for bread" ? "Will you quench the 
thirst of the exhausted traveller by trying to persuade 
him that it is the merest superstition to suppose that 
water can remove the craving which he thinks he feels? 



IF NOT TO CHBIST THEN TO WHOM? 149 

Or would you be surprised if, as you spoke to him in 
that fashion, he were to heap anathemas upon your 
head for mocking his misery with your sneers ? Yet to 
attempt to take such a course with a hungry or thirsty 
man would not be more unsatisfactory than is the an- 
swer given by skepticism to the cravings of the human 
heart. It seeks to remove the longings of the soul by 
denying their existence or by stifling their expression. 
Its creed is virtually a denial of everything ; it says 
that we know only what we see, and scarcely that; 
and as for what is unseen, there is no need to disturb 
ourselves about that ; and so it is like a cruel mother, 
who tries to make her child forget its hunger by put- 
ting it to sleep, thereby only postponing and intensi- 
fying the evil. 

But it does not always succeed even in putting 
the soul to sleep, and the very efforts made by those 
who accept it to suppress the nature that is within 
them attest that they are doing violence to the deepest 
and truest intuitions of their hearts. Take for in- 
stance the following words of one of this class : "To 
relinquish our personal hopes, and to take instead of 
them an abstract conception thin as air, is a trial to 
our constituted instincts harder than any which has 
yet been undergone, and an anguish from which it is 
impossible that the soul should not shrink." Surely 
in such a case the moral instincts of a man are truer 
than his intellectual creed, and the existence of such 
inward protests in his own soul ought to keep him 
from accepting a " thin abstraction " instead of the liv- 
ing God. It is not so easy to be an unbeliever after 
all ! One must do violence to his own nature before 
he can believe that there is no God and no hereafter. 
Perhaps no one ever succeeded so thoroughly in beat- 
ing down all inward obstacles to the acceptance of 



i50 IP NOT TO CHEIST THEN TO WHOM? 

materialism as did Harriet Martineau ; and y el even 
as we perused those last letters of hers, in which she 
flaunts her infidelity before the eyes of her mental 
mesmerizer, we felt that her words are like the whist- 
ling of the school-boy as he runs through the grave- 
yard at the dead of night, and are designed " to keep 
the courage up." At any rate they are as different in 
the matter of restfulness from her own former medita- 
tions in the sick-room as a starless midnight is from a 
peaceful, hopeful dawn. The soul will always be true 
to itself whenever it is allowed to assert its preroga- 
tive. It will not accept a scorpion for bread. It will 
not be mocked with a serpent when it asks a fish. One 
must choke back its strongest longings, and trample 
on its most tender expostulations before he can get 
himself to say there is no God, no heaven, no here- 
after, no sin, and no need of salvation. And so, as I 
have said, it is not so easy to be a skeptic after all. 

But how much better than all this, how much safer, 
how much more philosophical it is to meet the soul's 
hunger with the bread which God has provided, and 
its thirst with the water which God has furnished in 
Jesus Christ ! No doubt there are difficulties con- 
nected with revelation. None but a fool would deny 
that; but even suppose revelation, with its Saviour 
and its gospel, were entirely swept away, the very same 
difficulties ivould remain, while we should be deprived 
of the undoubted advantages which revelation brings. 
The difficulties which arise out of revelation are pre- 
cisely those which have already emerged in philosophy, 
and you do not get rid of them by tossing the Bible 
away. No ! you only get rid of the Bible remedy for 
human sin. The patients in an hospital may be 
wretched enough. Their wounds may be very painful, 
their fever may be very high, and altogether their case 



IF NOT TO CHEIST THEN TO WHOM? 151 

may be deplorable. But suppose that they should 
insist on expelling every medical man and every nurse 
from the institution, would that improve their circum- 
stances ? I trow not ; for every evil which they before 
experienced would continue, and would be intensified 
rather than mitigated by the change. But would it 
be otherwise, has it been otherwise with the skeptic 
and the Bible ? Does he get rid of difficulty when he 
turns his back on the Word of God, and has he re- 
formed the world or given peace to the troubled heart 
by taking the Bible away ? Alas, no ! as if to make 
known the utter impotence of infidelity for good, and 
to reveal its terrible potency for evil, God at the close 
of the last century gave France up to its power. The 
Bible was proscribed. The churches were closed. The 
Sabbath was abolished, and a vile woman was wor- 
shipped as the Goddess of Reason. Then surely would 
be the halcyon days of peace, the very millennium of 
infidelity. But how different the result, for all the 
while the Seine ran red with the blood of the slain, 
" truth perished and was cut off from the land," "the 
wicked walked on either side," for "the vilest men were 
exalted," and order, liberty, fraternity, and peace were 
" trampled in a mire of blood " beneath the feet of a 
maddened multitude. O infidelity ! if such be thy 
results, far from me and from those I love and from 
the country I revere be the adoption of thy dark nega- 
tions ! If thy reign be ever thus a reign of terror, be 
it mine to bow before the throne of Him whose service 
is freedom and whose sceptre is love. 

But, secondly, shall we go to ritualism ? At first 
that seems more likely to be efficacious, but when we 
examine it minutely we find that it has mistaken the 
form for the power. For in what does it consist ? It 



152 IF NOT TO CHRIST THEN TO WHOM? 

is the performance of a certain round of external 
services, the repetition of set forms and phrases, the 
observance of outward ceremonies — whether appointed 
by men, like the crossings and genuflections of ecclesi- 
astical enactment, or instituted by Christ himself, like 
baptism and the Lord's Supper. Now while in our 
complex humanity spiritual life must take some form, 
still it must be evident to every one who thinks, that 
a system which is form, and nothing else, can do 
nothing to benefit the soul. Form is valuable only 
when life has vitalized and ennobled it, but the ab- 
sence of life is the very disease with which the soul 
is afflicted. How, then, can the observance of that 
which is external impart the life without which it 
must itself be dead? To seek for that which the soul 
needs in any kind of ritualism is to seek for the living 
among the dead. To attempt to improve our spiritual 
nature by such means is to begin at the wrong end, 
for it is the character of the soul that gives its quality 
to the rite, and not the observance of the rite that 
quickens the soul. It is the spirit of the worshipper 
that gives its value to the worship, and not the cor- 
rectness of the worship that gives regeneration to the 
heart. The root of the evil is in the soul itself, and 
no mere outward ceremony can touch that. The appli- 
cation of water to the body cannot cleanse the spirit, 
the partaking of bread and wine by the body can- 
not change the character of the soul. The bowing of 
the knee can no more influence the heart than the 
bending of the arm, and the repetition of a creed 
or of a form of prayer, merely as such, has no more 
beneficial effect upon the heart than the rehearsal of 
any other words. Forms, in their own place, are but 
like the garments in which spiritual life arrays itself ; 
yet if there be nothing but forms, they are then only 



IP NOT TO CHEIST THEN TO WHOM? 153 

like the shroud which men lay upon the face of the 
dead. Therefore the cure must not pass through 
them to the soul, but through the soul into them, and 
whenever they are relied upon for salvation, there you 
will find an evil heart rejoicing in sin while covering 
itself with the garb of piety. Witness the Pharisees 
in our Saviour's own time, whose characters he so 
witheringly exposed, and who revealed themselves in 
the fact that, though they could not enter into the hall 
of Pilate on the Passover day, lest they should be 
defiled, they could yet plot with cunning malignity for 
the murder of the Lord. Witness the Italian brigand 
who returns to the shrine of Mary to give thanks for 
a successful robbery. Witness multitudes among our- 
selves, who seem on the Lord's day, and in the Lord's 
house, to be devoutest worshippers, but who upon the 
Monday are watching every opportunity to take ad- 
vantage of their neighbors. Formalism, so far from 
improving the heart, only hardens it the more. It 
simply substitutes hypocrisy for religion. It white- 
washes the sepulchre, but it leaves the corpse fester- 
ing within. It needs the Christ to come with his life- 
giving power and cry, " Lazarus, come forth ! " and 
then, when the quickened one appears, the garments 
of the tomb are laid aside for the raiment of a living 
man. 

The cistern is empty when it is dissevered from the 
fountain, and the rite is meaningless when it is disso- 
ciated from Christ. I must come to the form through 
Christ if I would have anything of benefit from the 
form ; but if I go first to the form, then there is noth- 
ing of Christ about it so far as I am concerned. The 
ceremony means only what the heart puts into it, and 
if there be no Christ in the heart there will be no life 
in the ceremony. Thus ritualism is but the marbk 
7* 



154 



IP NOT TO CHRIST THEN TO WHOM? 



effigy of an entombed excellence. But " a living dog 
is better than a dead lion," and nobler, more accept- 
able to God, and more beneficial to the worshippers, is 
the rudest service in a log-hut, though it be conducted 
with stammering tongue and in ungrammatical speech, 
than the grandest ritual — if it be a ritual and nothing 
more — ever witnessed in the most imposing cathe- 
dral which architectural genius has created. From 
this, then, we must also turn away. It offers to the 
hungry soul the splendid painting of a feast, but the 
exquisite skill of the artist does not suffice to change 
the seeming into real, and the earnest spirit turns 
indignantly away, as Luther did, disdaining to accept 
that which is not bread, and seeing a deeper mean- 
ing than ever in the Master's words, " Except your 
righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the 
scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into 
the kingdom of heaven." 

But what, in the third place, shall we say to asceti- 
cism ? Shall we go to that ? For many we admit this 
system has its charms, and such as they are they are 
in themselves more noble than those of either of the 
others on which we have remarked. There is some- 
thing attractive in contemplation, and there is some- 
thing, too, at once romantic and poetical in dwelling 
apart from the hum of busy men, partaking neither in 
their business nor in their sins. But beautiful as it 
is in theory, it is useless in practice, for the heart can- 
not escape from itself, and no change in outward cir- 
cumstances can regenerate the soul. Within the outer 
cell wherein the hermit dwells there is the inner 
chamber of the spirit, from which no seclusion can 
isolate him, and all the arguments which prove the 
inefficiency of rites and ceremonies are equally power- 



IF NOT TO CHRIST THEN TO WHOM? 



155 



ful hi proving the impotence of asceticism to meet our 
inmost need. 

Besides, the whole system of seclusion is one of cow- 
ardice. That which the soul requires is the expulsive 
power of life, by which it can cast out the evil that is 
in itself, and conquer circumstances so as to make 
every difficulty minister to its strength. "What we 
need for the noblest service of our generation, and 
the highest development of ourselves, is not with- 
drawal from the world, but the disposition to stay in 
the world and conquer it for the Lord. To the first 
disciples, indeed, the Master said, Follow me, and 
they forsook their secular occupations for his service ; 
but these were exceptional instances, and now he calls 
us to abide in our several vocations, and follow him 
even while we prosecute them. That which can thrive 
only in the cloister or the hermitage is not calculated 
either to benefit ourselves or to do good to others. 

Moreover, asceticism is a merely negative thing. 
The giving up of luxury, in order thereby to commend 
ourselves to God, is but a form of penance, and is the 
poor caricature of the strength and happiness of him 
who, having Christ within him, is independent of ex- 
ternal influences, and can enjoy even affluence in such 
a way as to glorify the Lord. It is a nobler thing to 
have comfort, and offer that to God through its right 
enjoyment, than it is to make one's self miserable 
under the delusion that we shall thereby please him. 
The salvation which we need is that which fits the 
soul for service in any sphere, and not the miserable 
selfishness which seeks to keep itself aloof from men, 
caring only for its own interests, and utterly indiffer- 
ent to the welfare of others. Society is necessary to 
man. He was made to live in it. The instinct of his 
heart is to seek it, and that which sends him into soli- 



156 IP NOT TO CHRIST THEN TO WHOM? 

tude runs counter to the constitution which God has 
given him. So, even if it could cure the malady of 
which the soul is sick, asceticism would still be an 
abnormal thing. But it does not cure the soul. All 
the long years that Simeon stood upon his pillar did 
not bring him nearer God, and it would be possible 
for a man to lay aside fortune, comfort, society, and 
everything but the merest essentials to animal life, 
and yet be at heart no better than when he began. 
These are but the outer wrappings of the man ; the 
character is beneath them all, and till that is changed 
there can be no salvation. " I see thy pride through 
thy threadbare cloak," said one to Diogenes of old, 
and there is often more of self-conceit and self-indul- 
gence in giving up a luxury than there is in keeping 
and enjoying it. No, no, my hearers, religion is not 
such ostentatious self-denial ; it consists in the cruci- 
fixion of the inner self — and there is but one influence 
that can accomplish that. 

So we come to the fourth question. Shall we go to 
Jesus ? What are his qualifications ? Peter will tell 
us. "He has the words of eternal life." Words! 
words ! and does salvation come through words ? Yea, 
brethren, wondrous is the power of words when they 
are received by faith. What says the weird old phi- 
losopher of Chelsea ? " Cast forth thy word into the 
ever-living, ever-working universe ; it is a seed grain 
that cannot die ; unnoticed to-day, it will be found 
flourishing, perhaps as a banyan grove, perhaps, also, 
as a hemlock forest, after a thousand years." By 
words at first men were lured to their destruction, 
and by words we are to be saved at length. The be- 
lief of the serpent's lie brought all our misery upon 
us. The belief of the truth as it is in Jesus, " the 



IF NOT TO CHRIST THEN TO WHOM? 157 

Word of God," imparts life to our souls. That was 
no empty boast of his when he said, " The words that 
I speak unto you, they are spirit and they are life." 
What, then, are his words ? The time' would fail me 
if I tried to repeat them all, but let me give you this 
one saying as the essence and epitome of them all : 
" God so loved the world, that he gave his only begot- 
ten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not 
perish, but have everlasting life." What marvellous 
words are these, reaching the very seat of the evil ! 
They tell the guilty one that God loves him, and so 
when he believes them they remove his dread at the 
thought of the Almighty, and by the belief of them the 
Holy Spirit in his heart begets in him a " return and 
repercussion " — to use the good Leighton's phrase — of 
love to God, and that transfigures everything within 
him and around. Faith in these words gives certainty 
where before was doubt, and peace where formerly 
was despair. It gives life and significance to any form 
of ritual the believer may adopt, and makes the desert 
and the crowded street alike indifferent to him, if only 
he may therein serve his God. It puts into his heart 
music, the undertone of which is independent of any 
circumstances ; it opens up within himself a fountain 
which flows on alike in the marts of business and at 
the communion table ; and he begins to know the 
meaning of the blessed assurance, "Whoso drinketh 
of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst ; 
but it shall be in him a well of water springing up to 
everlasting life." In the pardon which Christ pro- 
claims, the soul finds peace and joy ; and in the Christ 
who has procured and proclaimed that pardon, it has 
discovered and recognized that lost excellence, the 
idea of which was slumbering within it like a faintly 
remembered melody, and the longing for which was 



158 



IF NOT TO CHRIST THEN TO WHOM? 



its deepest and most constant yearning. That which 
before was vague is now made definite and distinct, 
and, as in the case of Paul, the great aspiration of the 
man is that he may win Christ, and his one great effort 
is to press on toward the mark of the high calling of 
God in Christ Jesus. 

Ah, but you say, Can we believe these words of life 
that fell from Jesus' lips ? Yea, verily, I reply, they 
are the words of him who was approved of God by 
signs and miracles which he did ; they are the words 
of him who died upon the cross, and rose by his own 
power from the tomb of Joseph ; they are the words 
of him whose life shines before men's eyes with the 
radiance of Deity, and if they are not true then is there 
no truth. But that they are the truth experience 
everywhere attests. See what they have wrought in 
those who have most implicitly received them. Apos- 
tles believed them, and they lived such lives as earth 
has never seen surpassed or even equalled. Heathens 
believed them, and they rose from the vile depths of 
Roman immorality and Grecian impurity to integrity, 
chastity, truthfulness, and love. Drunkards have be- 
lieved them, and cast away their cups. Blasphemers 
have believed them, and turned in penitent reverence 
to God. Yea, sinners of every age and degree have 
believed them, and have turned from wickedness to 
serve the living and loving God ; and everywhere 
those who are most active in good works are they 
who most simply and sincerely accept these holy say- 
ings. Christ has put hope into individual hearts, and 
benevolence into our social life. All that is noble 
and elevating and purifying in our modern civilization 
has come from him, and the difference between the 
world of to-day and that of two thousand years ago 
has been owing — we affirm without fear of contradic- 



IP NOT TO CHEIST THEN TO WHOM? 



159 



tion — to the influence of his words of life. So we say 
to every burdened, weary, perplexed, and troubled 
one, with fullest confidence, "Come to him, and he 
will give you rest." 

And when the prophets of our modern materialism 
are asking us to leave the company of his disciples, 
we make reply, " To whom shall we go ? Find us a 
better answer to the questionings of our spirits than 
he has furnished. Show us a better ideal of man- 
hood than he has given. Bring us a better testimony 
to the life beyond the grave than he has borne, and 
let us see in the cold realm of your dark negations 
a love for human creatures such as he has enkindled 
in the hearts of his followers, and a willingness like 
theirs to spend and be spent in offices of benevolence. 
In one word, give us something better than the Christ 
of these gospels, and then we may accept it ; but till 
then cease your importunity, for your enticements 
to forsake him are in vain." Till then! ah, what 
irony has unconsciously escaped me! for never can 
such a demand be met. Four thousand years the 
world tried in vain to return to God, and now that he 
has come to be himself the way we will not give him 
up for a negation. Go, then, with you everlasting No 
to those who have no sin, no sorrow, no trial, no temp- 
tation — they may accept it if they will ; but for us 
"None but Christ, None but Christ ;" he has spoken 
to us the words of eternal life, and we cannot, we will 
not leave him, for we know that he will not deceive us. 



PEAYEES OFFEEED IN IGNOEANCE 
ANSWEEED IN LOVE. 



Mark x. 38. — " Ye know not what ye ask." 

These words were addressed to James and John 
when they came to Jesus with this request : " Grant 
unto us that we may sit, one on thy right hand, and 
the other on thy left hand, in thy glory; " but, though 
they have in them a tone of reproof, we must beware 
of heaping indiscriminate blame upon the heads of 
Salome's sons because they presented such a petition. 
Let it be admitted that their prayer was rooted in am- 
bition, still we may not forget that their ambition was 
to be nearest Christ ; nor can we fail to observe that 
there are some things in their conduct which are wor- 
thy of our praise, and may be imitated by us with ad- 
vantage. 

In the first place, they did ask. Now that was a 
great thing. How many are there from whose lips no 
prayer ever ascends into the ear of God ! They may 
have wishes, but they do not recognize that God has 
anything to do with their attainment of the objects of 
their desires, and they never come to him with a re- 
quest. They will consult earthly friends and interest 
worldly acquaintances in their plans and pursuits, but 
they have no thought of Jesus. It would seem to 
them "cant" or "superstition" or 4 'hypocrisy " to ask 
God for anything, and so they go through the world 
prayerless. Ah, how many homes there are in which 

160 



PRAYERS OFFERED IN IGNORANCE ANSWERED IN LOVE. 161 

there is no family altar, and how many hearts there 
are too proud to ask a favor from the King of kings ! 

How passing strange is this ! Here is a gracious 
invitation : " Ask, and ye shall receive ; seek, and ye 
shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened unto you : for 
every one that asketh receiveth ; and he that seeketh 
findeth ; and unto him that knocketh it shall be 
opened." This is given by the Lord of hosts himself ; 
and yet we, who are poor and miserable and blind 
and naked, and standing in need of all things, will not 
act upon it. Were a similar proclamation to be made 
by any earthly monarch, his palace gate would be be- 
sieged day and night with eager, earnest suppliants ; 
but men think it beneath them to be seen begging at 
the door of heaven. Oh, what has God done to us that 
we should' despise him thus ? What ails thee, O man, 
at Jesus, that thou shouldst spurn his kindness ? Let 
the prayerless among us, therefore, be rebuked by the 
fact that these brothers went to Christ with their re- 
quest. It is a great matter when one goes to Jesus 
for anything, since, by and by, no matter what he be- 
gins with, he will be found going to him for every- 
thing. Whatever be thy desire, therefore, go to him. 

In the second place, these brothers had a definite 
purpose in coming to him. When he said to them, 
" What would ye that I should do for you? " they were 
not taken aback, but they set before him a distinct re- 
quest. Herein, again, they were greatly in advance 
of multitudes who perhaps would presume to be their 
censors; for is it not too true that our prayers are 
frequently most vague and indefinite ? If any one 
were to ask us at the end of our devotions what we 
have been requesting, I verily believe that many of 
us would be at a loss to give a reply. We get into 
the habit of employing certain phrases so regularly 



162 PRAYERS OFFERED IN IGNORANCE ANSWERED IN LOVE. 

that they lose all meaning to us, and we go so thought- 
lessly to our knees that we never pause, even for a 
moment, to put to ourselves such questions as these : 
What do I need? What shall I ask? How shaU I 
make request? If we were going to present a petition 
to a fellow-man, we would spend a little time in think- 
ing out our supplication ; but we rush hastily into the 
presence of God, without previous preparation, and 
with no definite aim. We think we ought to say 
something, and there are certain stock utterances — reli- 
gious commonplaces, as we may call them — which seem 
to be the recognized formulae for such occasions, so we 
give forth these and call it prayer. But never was 
there a greater misnomer. All this is mere lip-ser- 
vice, a devotional beating of the air, nay, the most 
hardening hypocrisy. Men confess sins of which they 
do not feel the guilt, utter adorations which they can- 
not appropriate, and offer prayers so general that they 
may mean anything or nothing. Is it any wonder, 
brethren, that with such habits among us prayer 
should be regarded by us as useless, and felt to be 
uninteresting? Formalism is always dreary and in- 
variably empty ; yet the way to remedy that evil is 
not to give up the exercise, but to have it vivified and 
glorified by making it a reality ; and that will be best 
accomplished by setting before us a distinct aim. Let 
us take time to consider what sins we have to acknowl- 
edge ; let us ponder well what things we need, and 
having expressed them, let us conclude. I think we 
might learn much in this matter from the prayers re- 
corded in the Bible. Take that of Abraham's servant 
when he went for a wife to Isaac, or that of Jacob 
when he was afraid of meeting Esau, or that of Elijah 
upon Mount Carmel, or that of Hezekiah when he re- 
ceived the blasphemous letter of Babshakeh, and we 



PRAYERS OFFERED IN IGNORANCE ANSWERED IN LOVE. 163 

sliall be struck with the simple, honest, business-like 
straightforwardness of the requests they make. These 
men had a purpose in view, and they went right at it. 
So should it be with us, and by this means we shall 
make our devotions interesting to ourselves and power- 
ful with God. Ever, therefore, as we go to our knees 
or come to the mercy-seat, let us hear Jesus saying 
unto us, " What wilt thou that I should do for thee ? " 
and the answer to that question will be real prayer. 
As it is, we ask a great many things which we don't 
want, and omit many which we really do desire. 

In the third place, these brothers were honest and 
sincere in their request. They did not pretend to ask 
this in order to keep up the appearance of faith in 
Jesus and attachment to him. They actually desired to 
have the positions for which they made petition. Now 
here again they were greatly better than many who 
would be ready to censure them, for we too frequently 
ask for things which we are taught that it is right to 
pray for, rather than for those things which we actu- 
ally want. We soar aloft into spiritual regions on 
the borrowed wings of David, or some other of his 
brother psalmists, though we have little or no com- 
munity of sentiment with them ; and the troubles of 
our e very-day lives, in connection with which we re- 
ally want help and direction, we leave altogether out 
of the account. We fancy that God cannot be con- 
cerned about such things. They seem to us too triv- 
ial and secular to speak about in prayer, and there- 
fore we say nothing concerning them, and go on 
to express desires for things in regard to which we 
are indifferent, while the weight of unspoken cares 
lies dull and heavy on our hearts. It is a thousand 
times better to pray sincerely about matters which, 
though they should be both secular and small, are 



1(54 PRAYERS OFFERED EN' IGNORANCE ANSWERED Es LOTE. 



real to us, than to pretend to pray about spiritual 
things which are at the time no better to us than myths ; 
and it would be a good rule to lav down for our ob- 
servance, never to ask anything uniess we feel that we 
truly want it. Xo doubt this would greatly abridge 
the length of our devotions, but such an abridgment 
would be an immense improvement. If we cannot say 
we are sincere in our petition, let us not present it ; 
and if there be anything about which we are really 
anxious, let us give expression to that. Let us not 
make request in such a way that if God were to take 
us at our word we should be covered with confusion, 
and compelled to own that we were only pretending ; 
and if we use a form, let us see to it that we first 
pour our hearts into the mould which it has made for 
them. 

But you are ready to ask, if all this be true — if the 
sons of Zebedee were both direct and sincere in- their 
petition here presented — what was there to be blamed 
in the matter? And to this I answer that, apart from 
the earthly ambition to be above the other disciples, 
I cannot find much that was wrong about their prayer. 
The Saviour, in the words of my text, does not blame 
them for presenting it. All he says is that they did 
not know either what they asked or what was in- 
volved in the granting of their request. 

They wished to be beside him in his glory, but as 
yet they had a very false conception of what that glory 
was. They dreamed that his monarchy was to be vis- 
ible and temporal. They thought not of him as a 
spiritual king, whose empire would be over the minds 
and hearts and consciences of believing men. Thev 
had not yet learned that greatness in his regime was to 
be no outward gift of patronage, like that bestowed 



PRAYERS OFFERED EST IGNORANCE ANSWERED IN LOYE. 165 

by earthly potentates, but pre-eminence in character. 
They had not discovered that the glory of his realm 
is glory in holiness, and so, in asking to be one on 
each side of him in his glory, they had no other idea 
than that which they derived from what they had heard 
of the pomp and splendor of an earthly conrt. 

And, egregiously wrong as they were about his 
glory, they were no less in error as to the things 
which were involved in the granting of their request. 
A king on earth can make a baronet or earl by the 
mere issuing of a patent, and an absolute monarch 
can place a man at his side, making him the second 
in the country, as Pharaoh did Joseph, by a single 
act. These promotions, however, are not necessarily 
connected with any alteration of character or any pro- 
cess of training. But it is otherwise with holiness, by 
the measure of which, as attained by his followers, 
Jesus regulates the different degrees of nobility among 
them. That is not a thing which God bestows upon 
a man by a patent outside of him. It is a character 
which is formed within him. It is not a gift which 
the Lord confers, as we would say, ready made, and by 
one act, upon a man. It is the result of a long course 
of education and trial ; and he is the highest in this 
peerage who, having served his Master best through 
good report and through bad report, shows likest 
him in self-sacrifice and purity. By the cross Jesus 
was elevated to the throne which he now occupies, 
and he whose life is a sacrifice nearest in value and 
likest in character to that which Jesus offered upon 
Calvary will sit nearest to him in glory. Hence the 
Lord, in his cross-questioning of these petitioners, 
says, "Can ye drink of the cup that I drink of? and 
be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized 
with ? " But they had no glimmering of his meaning. 



166 PRAYERS OEEERED IN IGNORANCE ANSWERED IN LOVB. 

Still, as they ignorantly replied, "We can," he an- 
swered that they should, and said, moreover, that only 
to those for whom it was prepared — that is, to those 
who were uppermost in holiness — could he give the 
posts for which they were so desirous. Thus he 
does not deny their request. He simply expounds its 
meaning to them in words which they would better 
comprehend when he had gone to his glory, and the 
remembrance of which, in after days, would do much 
to stimulate them to follow in his footsteps, if haply 
their prayer might, after all, be granted. Yea, who 
knows but now it is fulfilled ? James went up in the 
chariot of the martyr, and John, after a long life of 
earnest service, during which he had made trial of 
many persecutions, heard at last the cry, " Come up 
hither ! " and it may be that, in the day when the 
apostles sit on twelve thrones judging the twelve 
tribes, these two may be seen next the Lord. Thus 
the words of Keble may be as applicable to the throne 
as to the cup : 

"O great apostles ! rightly now 

Ye read all that your Saviour meant 
What time his grave yet gentle brow 
In sweet reproof on you was bent. " 

We cannot tell : we only know that those who are in 
that position will be those who have been fitted for it 
by drinking of the cup and submitting to the baptism 
of the Lord. 

This, then, is what the words of my text mean — "Ye 
do not know what is implied in the terms you employ 
in making your request, or what is involved in the 
granting of it to you." But were these brothers singu- 
lar in this ? Is it not in a deep sense true of us, in 
every sincere prayer we offer, that we know not what 



PRAYERS OFFERED IN IGNORANCE ANSWERED IN LOVE. 167 

we ask ? We may have a definite object in view, and 
we may think it good and most desirable ; but we can- 
not trace it through all its bearings ; we cannot see 
how it would affect us if it were bestowed on us ; nor 
can we tell what may be required from us before it 
can be granted. Of the simplest thing we choose to 
pray for, it may be said we know not what we ask. 
We cannot tell whether the bestowment of it would be 
a blessing to us or the reverse, neither can we see by 
what means God may be pleased to answer our cry. 
Thus, though it is easy for us to see wherein these 
brothers erred, it is not so easy for us to keep from 
error ourselves. There is only One who, in his all- 
embracing omniscience, can thoroughly discern what is 
involved in our petitions, and that is God, to whom we 
make our prayers ; and as he is all- wise as well as 
all-loving, we may rest assured that he will answer all 
our prayers, if not in the letter, yet in the spirit, and 
give us that which is best. He sees the end from 
the beginning, he knows what we ask, and thus his 
answers come, not so much according to what we re- 
quest as according to his knowledge of the character 
of those things for which we pray, and of the effect 
which the bestowment of them would have upon us. 

Now if we will but remember these two particulars 
— first, that we do not know the true character and cer- 
tain effect upon us of the things which we ask from 
God ; and, second, that we do not understand always 
what is involved in the granting of our requests — we 
shall begin to comprehend why so many of our prayers 
are apparently unanswered, and why so frequently we 
fail to recognize answers to our prayers when they 
really do come. 

We shall comprehend why so many of our prayers 
are apparently unanswered, Your little boy comes 



168 PKAYEES OFFERED IN IGNORANCE ANSWERED IN LOVE. 

to you and cries importunately for a knife. He will 
not be gainsaid. Your negatives he refuses to receive ; 
and as you persist in declining to accede to his re- 
quest, he is prone to think harsh thoughts of you ; 
he begins to pout and to say in murmuring under- 
tone, "I never do have anything." He does not un- 
derstand your procedure. He imagines that what 
you do in wisdom and real love to him, has been 
prompted by the simple spirit of contradiction and 
the mere desire to show your authority. He does not 
see that by the gift which he is seeking he will injure 
himself and do serious mischief in the home. He 
knows not what he asks, but you do, and out of hon- 
est affection for him you refuse it. Now it is similar 
with us in our prayers to God. You ask him, say, 
for success in life, having in your mind that external 
prosperity which consists in the possession of this 
world's goods. But God's view of success is a very 
different affair. In his estimation success consists in 
what a man is, not in what he has, and he gives you 
that success by denying you the other. He sees that 
if he were to bestow upon you riches and honor and 
rank and fame you would not be able to carry all these 
things with safety. He knows that such prosperity 
as you desire would be to you like an edge-tool in an 
infant's hand, or that its result upon you would be 
that you should be " full and deny him," and, there- 
fore, he declines to bestow it. 

Again, you have some special trouble pressing upon 
you. Like Paul, it may be you have a thorn in the 
flesh. Health may be a blessing almost unknown to 
you. You may never have a waking hour that is 
entirely free from pain, while yet there is not such 
serious illness as to incapacitate you for labor. You 
cannot lay yourself aside, neither can you work with 



PRAYERS OFFERED IN IGNORANCE ANSWERED IN LOVE. 169 

vigor; and you cry to God for relief. But lie does 
not remove your malady. You do not know what 
you ask. He does, and he gives his answer in this 
fashion : " If I were to grant your request your natur- 
ally high spirits might run away with you ; your health 
of body would make you indifferent to the higher 
health of the soul. Let me judge for you, therefore, 
and deny you the former that you may obtain the lat- 
ter. The thorn shall remain ; only take this for your 
support, My grace is sufficient for thee, My strength 
is made perfect in weakness." 

Or, once more, you ask for the continued life of one 
who is very dear to you, and in whom your happiness 
is almost entirely centred : a father, a mother, a hus- 
band, a wife, a brother, a sister, a child ; yet even as 
you pray that life ebbs away. Day by day you con- 
tinue your supplication, but in vain ; for in spite of 
your watching and prayer the loved one dies, and you 
are left exclaiming, " Is it indeed true that Jehovah is 
the hearer of prayer ? " » But here is the solution of 
the matter: "You knew not what you asked." Jesus 
did. He saw that the granting of your prayer would 
only the more thoroughly centre your heart upon an 
earthly object, and so, wishing to lift up your affec- 
tions to those things which are above beside himself, 
he took the beloved one to heaven. He denied your 
prayer for a time, that in bright and perfect reunion 
with the object of your affection he might ultimately 
grant it forever. Say not, therefore, that God heeds 
you not, though he may seem to deny you the thing 
which you request. In wisdom and love he is doing 
all things well. He knows what you ask, and accord- 
ing to his judgment regarding its results upon you, 
whether they shall be really beneficial or the reverse, 
he gives or refuses. Thus alike in giving and refusing, 
8 



170 PEAYEES OFFEEED IN IGNOEANCE ANSWEEED IN LOYE. 

however paradoxical it may seem, he is answering 
your prayer ; and as you look back upon the past you 
are constrained to say of many occasions that it was 
good for you that you were denied your request ; yea, 
that the spirit of your prayer was answered while the 
literal thing asked for was refused. 

A beautiful instance of this in the life of the great 
Church father, Augustine, has often given both con- 
solation and light. He wished to leave Carthage, 
where he had become deeply entangled in the snares 
of sin, and to visit Borne, then the metropolis of the 
world ; but his pious mother, Monica, restrained him 
with her tears, and would not let him go, being afraid 
that he would encounter still more dangerous snares 
in the great city. He promised to her to remain ; but, 
forgetful of his duty, he embarked in a vessel under 
the cloud of night, and in that very Italy to which her 
affection was afraid to let him go he found salvation 
and was converted. Pondering in his mind how the 
Eternal Love had conducted him to where he himself 
had thought of going only in the frowardness of his 
heart, he says, in his Confessions, " But thou, my God, 
listening in thy high and heavenly counsels to what 
was the scope of my mother's wishes, refused her what 
she prayed for, at that time, that thou mightest grant her 
what was at all times the subject of her prayers." 

But it is only turning this truth round and looking 
at it from the other side to say that it helps to explain 
why we so frequently fail to recognize answers to our 
prayers when they really do come. Thus you make 
request for the conversion of one in whom you are 
profoundly interested ; it may be a beloved son or an 
affectionate daughter; you say, and at the moment 
you think you feel what you say, that there is nothing 
of an earthly kind that you would not rather sacrifice 



PRAYERS OFFERED IN IGNORANCE ANSWERED IN LOVE. 171 



for them than that your child should grow up a god- 
less, christless, careless worldling. But how does the 
answer come ? You see the beloved one stricken by- 
some disease which leaves behind a lifelong weakness 
and renders anything like active exertion a burden, 
and at first you are dreadfully distressed ; but, as the 
result of this discipline, thoughtfulness begins to man- 
ifest itself, faith is born, conversion is accomplished, 
and then you read in its answer the full meaning of 
the prayer which in ignorance you presented. 

Or, again, you ask for the forgiveness of sins, and 
think that the blessing is to come to you in a full flush 
of peace and joy. But not thus always does God 
proceed. When the woman desired the living water, 
Christ said to her, " Go, call thy husband." That was 
the way he took to grant her request. He began by 
calling her sins to remembrance, that she might have 
a real spiritual thirst. So often yet, when one asks 
pardon, God answers by showing him more thor- 
oughly his sins, even as Jesus once began to cure a 
blind man by more completely sealing up his eyes 
with clay. It is as if he said to the suppliant, I am 
ready to bestow pardon, but before you know its value 
you must first learn how it is you need it, and you 
must be brought to hate your iniquity even in the 
moment that you receive forgiveness. 

And, to take only another example, we ask for holi- 
ness, we pray to be made meet for the inheritance of 
the saints in light ; but while we offer the petition we 
are like the sons of Zebedee, and have an idea that it 
can be answered just at once by an external deed of 
gift. Alas, for our delusion ! How painfully does 
God dispel it. First there may come some outburst 
of malice on us, and our name may be aspersed, our 
character vilified, and our motives misconstrued ; and 



172 PRAYERS OFFERED IN IGNORANCE ANSWERED IN LOVE. 

while in dismay we ask, " O God, why is this ? " we 
hear the still, small voice of Jehovah make reply, 
" This is the way I answer prayer for holiness." 

Then there may come upon us sore trial through 
the backsliding and iniquity of those we dearly love. 
We expostulate, we weep, we beseech, we warn ; but 
still no effect upon the fallen one is produced, and we 
go through the world carrying the weight of a living 
cross, and entering into fellowship with the Kedeemer's 
emotion when to Jerusalem he said, "I would, but 
thou wouldst not." We wonder at the discipline, and, 
as we cry, " O God, what is this ? " we hear again 
the answer from the throne : " It is thus I grant your 
request that you may grow in holiness." Once more, 
there may come severe bereavement into our dwelling. 
Our children may be stricken down in dire disease, 
and one after another borne away to the narrow house ; 
and as we stand confounded and distressed, crying out, 
"O God, why is this? " the reply comes anew, "It is 
thus I answer prayers for holiness." Ah ! we know 
not what we ask when we cry for holiness. That prayer 
is a virtual entreaty that God would never let us alone, 
lest we should, Moab-like, settle upon our lees. It is 
a request that he should, by all his means of disci- 
pline and purification, work out the whole good pleas- 
ure of his goodness, and the work of faith with power ; 
that, in a word, he would bring us through what one 
has called 

" The process slow of years, 
The discipline of life, 
Of outward woes and secret tears, 
Sickness and strife, 
The idols taken from us one by one 
Till we can bear to live with God alone." * 

* See The Name of Jesus, and other Poems, by Caroline M. Noel, 
p. 35. 



PRAYERS OFFERED IN IGNORANCE ANSWERED IN LOVE. 173 



And so, even in our crosses, troubles, afflictions, and 
distresses, God is answering our prayers, for we knew 
not what we asked. Are there not many here to-day 
who can, from their own experience, attest the truth 
of all I have said ? John Newton has given so admi- 
rable an expression to what the Christian feels on this 
subject, that I cannot resist the impulse which moves 
me to transcribe the beautiful Olney hymn in which 
it is embodied : 



" I asked the Lord that I might grow- 
In faith and love and every grace ; 
Might more of his salvation know, 
And seek more earnestly his face. 

" 'Twas he who taught me thus to pray, 
And he, I trust, has answered prayer; 
But it has been in such a way 
As almost drove me to despair. 

M I hoped that in some favored hour 
At once he'd answer my request, 
And by his love's constraining power 
Subdue my sins and give me rest. 

" Instead of this he made me feel 
The hidden evils of my heart, 
And let the angry powers of hell 
Assault my soul in every part. 

" Yea, more, with his own hand he seemed 
Intent to aggravate my woe, 
Crossed all the fair designs I schemed, 
Blasted my gourds, and laid me low. 

•* Lord, why is this ? I trembling cried. 
Wilt thou pursue thy worm to death ? 
'Tis in this way, the Lord replied, 
I answer prayer for grace and faith. 



174 PEAYERS OFFERED FN IGNORANCE ANSWERED IN LOVE. 

" These inward trials I employ 

From self and pride to set thee free ; 
And break thy schemes of earthly joy 
That thou mayest seek thy all in me." 

And what is the inference from all this ? Not that 
we should cease to pray. No, but, because we know not 
what we ask, that we should be in all our petitions 
entirely submissive to our Father's will. 

Let us not cry any the less fervently, " If it be pos- 
sible, let this cup pass from me;" but let us add only 
the more earnestly, " Not as I will, but as thou wilt," 
and we may be sure that either the cup will pass or 
the strengthening angel will appear. 



THE TRUE CHRISTIAN HOLINESS. 



Zechamah xiv. 20. — " In that day shall there be upon the bells 
of the horses, Holiness unto the Lord. " 

Whatever view we take of the reference of this 
prophecy — whether with some we understand it of the 
New Testament Church as a whole, or with others we 
regard it as describing the state of things among the 
Jews when they shall be converted and restored to 
their own land — we are equally warranted in explain- 
ing the words which I have read as indicating that 
the great design and ultimate result of the diffusion 
of the gospel is to promote holiness. 

This is the topic to the illustration of which I mean 
to devote the discourse of this morning, and I have 
been led to turn your thoughts to it now because 
I believe that it is by professing Christians generally 
either forgotten or misunderstood. In the view of 
many salvation is simply deliverance from punish- 
ment, and though they would shrink from saying 
roundly out, " Let us continue in sin that grace may 
abound," yet they are strangely jealous of all enforce- 
ments of personal holiness. So long as sinners are 
exhorted to " believe on the Lord Jesus Christ " and 
be forgiven, they regard the preacher as evangelical ; 
but when he goes further and says, " Believe on the 
Lord Jesus Christ, and be holy," they become suspi- 
cious, and think that he is degenerating into the proc- 
lamation of what they are pleased to call "mere 
morality." They forget that salvation is a character 

175 



176 



THE TEUE CHKISTIAN HOLINESS. 



as well as a condition, and that the two can never be 
really divorced. They seem to have no idea that 
Christianity is a life as well as a creed, and that the 
bestowment of forgiveness is not the great end of the 
gospel, but only a means to the higher end of lifting 
men from their degradation and making them in heart 
and in conduct, as well as in name, the sons of God. 

To rest in pardon, therefore, as if that were the 
whole gospel, is a mean and contemptible thing, dis- 
playing a disposition of the grossest selfishness ; and 
so we find the very idea of it repudiated by the apos- 
tles, who constantly insist on a holy life as the result, 
and evidence of the reception by the sinner of the mercy 
of God through Jesus Christ. The Sermon on the 
Mount is a part of the gospel equally with the decla- 
ration, that " God so loved the world that he gave his 
only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him 
should not perish, but have everlasting life." The 
practical portions of Paul's epistles are not inconsist- 
ent with, but rather founded upon his great doctrine 
of justification by faith, and are indeed the develop- 
ment of it to its proper results, and the Epistle of 
James, with its keen sarcasm and withering exposure 
of every-day sins, is as thoroughly evangelical as 
Peter's Pentecostal sermon. It may be profitable, 
now and then, as contributing to a better understand- 
ing of the subject, that we should examine separately 
the blessings of which salvation is composed ; but it 
would be perilous to forget that the thing itself is 
one, or to lose sight of the fact that it is an experience 
in the present, and not merely a hope for the future. 
"We must not allow ourselves to think of it as mainly 
consisting in the expectation that God will acquit us 
when we stand before him in judgment ; but we should 
ever remember that when it is really possessed it is 



the true christian holiness. 



177 



a living character, produced by the grace of the Holy 
Spirit, and rooted in the simple faith which the soul 
is exercising in Jesus Christ. In a word, we must 
constantly regard salvation as deliverance, not only 
from the punishment of sin, but from sin itself, and 
we must always bear in mind that it will be consum- 
mated only when alike on the soul itself, and on all its 
employments, there shall be engraven, " Holiness unto 
the Lord." 

I. Bearing in mind these principles, then, let us ad- 
vance to the consideration of the subject which I have 
announced, and inquire, in the first place, what holiness 
is. What precisely do we mean when we say of a man 
that he is holy ? We imply not simply that he is vir- 
tuous, but rather that his virtue has a special and pecu- 
liar quality. There are persons who are honest, truth- 
ful, temperate, chaste, meek, and yet while you could 
call them moral or virtuous, you would never think uf 
crediting them with holiness. Evidently, therefore, 
even in our common speech there is a recognition of 
the distinction between virtue and holiness. 

What, then, is that distinction ? Is it not this : that 
the virtuous man regulates his conduct by moral prin- 
ciples alone, while the holy man maintains a close and 
constant fellowship with the living God ? While you 
are in the company of the one, you are struck with 
the high-minded honor which he evinces, and are 
compelled to admire the man himself ; while you are 
in the presence of the other, you are impressed with a 
sense of the nearness of God, and you cannot but mark 
the entire submissiveness of the man's soul to him. 
The one gives you a lofty idea of his own excellence ; 
the other makes you feel the greatness and purity of 
God : the life of the one may be maintained without 
8* 



178 



THE TRUE CHRISTIAN HOLINESS. 



any thought of Jehovah ; that of the other is entirely 
supported by the communion of his soul with God : 
you may be with the one for days together without 
being once reminded of the great Supreme ; you can- 
not be with the other for even the briefest space with- 
out discovering that he carries God's presence with 
him constantly, and that it is, as it were, the atmos- 
phere in which he lives, and moves, and has his being. 
Thus, even in our ordinary employment of the word, 
there is a recognition of the fact that a holy man is 
pre-eminently a man of God. 

Nearly akin to this is the scriptural significance of the 
term, for as it is used in the Old and New Testaments 
it denotes " consecrated to Jehovah." The " holy " 
thing is that which piety has cleansed and set apart 
for God, and the holy man, or the saint, is one who is 
consecrated alike by the blood-sprinkling of Jesus, 
the renewing of the Spirit, and his own voluntary act, 
to the special service of the Most High. Therefore, 
putting the two together, we define holiness to be, so 
far as it is an inward principle, the maintenance of 
close communion with God, and so far as it is an 
outward manifestation, the consecration of the life to 
God. If, then, this view of the case be correct, holi- 
ness is not so much a separate and distinct thing, like 
truth or temperance or humility, as a disposition of 
soul lying back behind all these, and giving to each 
of them its own distinctive peculiarity. It is not any 
one of the virtues, neither is it the union of all the 
virtues ; but it is the disposition or state of soul out of 
which they all spring, and by which they are all regu- 
lated. It is not first the virtues, and then holiness as 
the consequence of their amalgamation ; but it is first 
holiness, and then each of the virtues is manifested as 
occasion may require, and that too in such a way as to 



THE TRUE CHRISTIAN HOLINESS. 



179 



reveal that the mainspring of the man's activity is fel- 
lowship with God. 

Holiness, thus, is not an outward act, but an inward, 
all-regulating principle. A man may be benevolent 
without being holy, he may be temperate without be- 
ing holy, and so on with every virtue which you choose 
to name ; but if he be really holy, then all these graces 
will appear in his conduct as things of course, and 
they will be seen and felt to be a holy benevolence, 
and a holy temperance, and so forth ; that is, they 
will bear upon them the mark of being consecrated to 
God. 

Thus then the root principles of holiness are con- 
stant fellowship with God and unreserved consecration 
of the soul and life to God. Wherever these two 
things are not, no matter what else of excellence there 
may be, you cannot say there is . holiness ; wherever 
these two things are, there you have that quality which 
commands at once the reverence of men and the com- 
placency of God. Here indeed is the crowning excel- 
lence of which humanity is capable, and for which it 
was originally designed. It is a great thing to say of 
a man that he is characterized by integrity and truth- 
fulness, and is incapable of knowingly doing injustice 
to another ; it is a greater thing to affirm of one that 
he is distinguished for amiability and benevolence, 
and goes through the world seeking to make others 
happy ; but I hold it to be the grandest thing you 
can declare of any man when you allege that he is 
holy, for that is to affirm that he " walks with God," 
and that he holds himself and all that he has to be 
not his own, but the property of the King of kings. 

II. But, advancing a step, let us ask how this holi- 
ness is to be obtained. Clearly it is not possessed by 



180 



THE TRUE CHRISTIAN HOLINESS. 



every man ; nay more, experience and Scripture unite 
in testifying that no man has it naturally and as a 
thing of course. Indeed, the very reverse is true. 
Men do not like to retain God in their knowledge. 
They do everything they can to avoid having com- 
munion with him ; and, so far from considering them- 
selves as consecrated to him, they assert their right 
to themselves, saying — not of their tongues alone, but 
also of their hearts and intellects and lives — "They 
are our own. Who is lord over us ? " 

Now how is all this to be changed? Not, surely, 
by the individual himself. That at least must be self- 
evident. From an unholy soul nothing but that which 
is unholy can proceed. By no mere process of devel- 
opment or natural selection, if I may so speak, can 
the unholy man train himself into holiness. Neither 
can this change be accomplished by means of external 
rites. I can understand how the application of water 
to the body can be the symbol of the purification of 
the soul by the Holy Ghost; but that it should be in 
and of itself the means of cleansing the spirit is a pos- 
itive absurdity, which, if it were not so commonly be- 
lieved, might well be considered too ridiculous to be 
seriously refuted. As well might you paint a house 
under the idea that you will thereby change the char- 
acter of him who dwells in it, as baptize the body in 
the hope that you will thereby regenerate the soul. 

But if neither by the man's own power nor by the 
washing of baptism this holiness is to be attained, by 
whose agency is it to be produced? The Scriptures 
answer with the utmost explicitness that we are regen- 
erated by the power of the Holy Ghost. If we inquire 
into the mode of his operations, indeed, we get no re- 
ply. If, for example, we ask how he can work in and 
upon a man, while not infringing on his free agency, 



THE TRUE CHRISTIAN HOLINESS. 181 



we are not told, any more than we are informed how 
God can carry on his work of providence as a great 
plan which converges to one result, while yet the lib- 
erty of no moral being is destroyed. If, again, we 
wish to know how the Spirit can carry on his opera- 
tions in and through the soul, while yet it has no 
consciousness of anything going on out of the usual 
course of its own working, we are not informed, any 
more than we are told how he can answer prayer 
without breaking in upon the uniformity of nature's 
operations. 

But, though silent as to the mode in which it is per- 
formed, Scripture repeatedly asserts the fact that re- 
generation is the work of the Holy Ghost ; and while 
it is true that, so far as his operations on the soul are 
direct and immediate they are mysterious, it is also 
true that, so far as they are indirect and through the 
instrumentality of means, they are easily comprehen- 
sible and perfectly in harmony both with our mental 
constitution and with the circumstances of the case. 
For how comes it that men are destitute of holiness ? 
The answer is easy. They are sinners, and as such 
they are both guilty and depraved. Now we have seen 
that one of the roots of holiness is communion with 
God. But how can a guilty one have fellowship with 
the righteous Jehovah ? and what communion has 
light with darkness ? 

Again, we have seen that the other element of holi- 
ness is consecration to God ; but the essence of sin is 
self-will, and so it is impossible that a man can dedi- 
cate himself to God until sin within him has been 
crushed, and he has received such signal mercy from 
God as shall lead him in gratitude to offer himself a 
living sacrifice unto him. In order to holiness, then, 
the sinner needs to be reconciled to God, and to be 



182 THE TBUE CHEISTIAN HOLINESS. 



made like to God ; but these are the very things which 
are to be accomplished through his belief on the Lord 
Jesus Christ, by the power of the Holy Ghost. The 
reception of the Lord Jesus reconciles a man to God, 
and puts him into spiritual affinity with God. I can- 
not really accept Christ as my Saviour, and regard his 
sacrifice as an atonement for my sins, without at the 
same time placing myself in thorough sympathy with 
God's views of things. Let me be one with God in 
regarding the mediatorial work of Christ as the means 
of reconciliation, and I am one with him in all things 
else ; my heart beats in unison with his, my views on 
all spiritual subjects run parallel with his, my aspira- 
tions are all after those things which he is bringing 
about ; and thus being like-minded with him I can 
have closest fellowship with him. 

Then as to consecration to him, the sight of the 
means by which his guilt and depravity have been 
removed produces in the believer's soul a deep feel- 
ing of personal indebtedness to God. He cannot lay 
claim to himself after God has redeemed him to him- 
self by the precious blood of Christ. His gratitude 
thus takes the form of self-dedication, and no appeals 
move him more deeply than these burning words of 
the apostle, " Ye are not your own : for ye are bought 
with a price : therefore glorify God in your body, and 
in your spirit, which are God's ;" or these, "I beseech 
you, therefore, by the mercies of God, that ye present 
your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto 
God, which is your reasonable service." Thus it is 
beautifully apparent that faith in Jesus Christ is in 
itself adapted to produce those two elements of com- 
munion with God, and consecration to him, in which 
holiness consists, and so in using that means to 
bring it into existence the Holy Spirit acts in har« 



THE TBTJE CUEISTIAN HOLINESS. 



183 



mony with our mental constitution and our moral 
condition. 

It follows, also, that if we wish to have this holiness 
formed or increased within us we must seek to have 
faith, strong and abiding, in the Lord Jesus Christ as 
our Redeemer, and in his death as the propitiation for 
our sins. This is a view of the cross which is too 
seldom before our thoughts. In times of awakening, 
when conscience has been pricked by the remem- 
brance of sin, we are glad to look to Christ crucified 
as the author of our forgiveness, and we sing joyfully 
of the pardoning efficacy of his blood ; but it should 
not be forgotten that the death of Christ is the source 
of our holiness as well as of our peace. It was by the 
sprinkling of the blood of sacrifice under the old econ- 
omy that things and persons were set apart for God's 
exclusive use ; for, as the apostle says, " When Moses 
had spoken every precept to all the people according 
to the law, he took the blood of calves and of goats, 
with water, and scarlet wool, and hyssop, and sprinkled 
both the book, and all the people, saying, This is the 
blood of the covenant which God hath enjoined unto 
you." Now corresponding to this in the new dispen- 
sation we may say that it is by the believing reception 
of Christ as the sacrifice for sin that we consecrate 
ourselves unto the Lord, and only in the measure in 
which we enter into the significance of his death will 
our lives be devoted unto the Lord. Hence to grow 
in holiness, not less than to have the assurance that 
our sins are forgiven, we must give good heed to the 
cross. By that the old man is crucified with him, 
that the body of sin should be destroyed ; by that we 
become crucified to the world and the world to us ; by 
that we enter into Paul's experience and can say, " I 
am crucified with Christ : nevertheless I live ; yet not 



184 



THE TBUE CHRISTIAN HOLINESS. 



I, but Christ liveth in me : and the life that I live in 
the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who 
loved me, and gave himself for me." Would you be 
holy, therefore ? I have but one answer to give as to 
the means of obtaining that character. " Believe in 
the Lord Jesus Christ." Keceive him as your Sa- 
viour and sacrifice, and you will by the Holy Spirit 
be led thereby to maintain fellowship with God and to 
consecrate yourselves to him. Realize that Jesus gave 
himself for you, and you will be constrained to give 
yourselves to him. 

III. But I pass on to look at the further question 
where this holiness is to be manifested. In the text 
it is declared that it will be on the bells of the horses, 
and that is to be understood only as a specimen of a 
class. The horse is a common animal employed for 
ordinary purposes every day, and so the prophet would 
illustrate the principle that under the new economy 
holiness would not be restricted to any person, place, 
or thing, but would characterize the believer's life in 
all occupations and under any circumstances. 

The Mosaic institute was in one aspect of it an 
educational thing, designed to lead the people up to 
exalted views of God. Hence the residence of his 
symbolic glory was veiled from ordinary view and 
considered a holy place ; hence, also, the only person 
in the nation who was permitted to enter that cham- 
ber was invested with a holy character, and it was on 
a plate of pure gold on the forefront of his mitre that 
these words were seen : " Holiness unto the Lord." 

But now, under the New Testament, we have no 
holy places or holy persons, or rather every true be- 
liever is a holy person, wherever he may be is a holy 
place, and whatever he does is a holy thing. Christ 



THE TRUE CHRISTIAN HOLINESS. 



185 



thus has consecrated our life. He has lifted it up 
from the lower level of earth to the higher platform of 
his native heaven, so that everything we do for him, 
even the simplest service which we render to the least 
of his saints, is holy, and has the reality of which the 
high-priest's mitre was but a symbol. Here is the 
true idea of the Christian life. It is a temple that we 
are daily building for the indwelling of Jehovah, and 
every tiniest stone we lay upon it is sacred unto him. 
It is not a mansion portioned off into separate apart- 
ments, of which one is for business and one is for pleas- 
ure and one is for religion, but it is an open edifice all of 
which is for the Lord. Or, to take the Mosaic symbol, 
it. is a tabernacle. In the inner sanctuary are the Sab- 
bath, the communion table, and the closet; in the 
outer sanctuary are the daily morning and evening 
altar for domestic worship, the devotional reading of 
the Word of God, and Christian fellowship with breth- 
ren in the Lord ; and in the open court there are 
business and labor, and things which the world calls 
secular, but round them all alike there is the conse- 
crating curtain which encloses the life as a whole and 
marks it off as sacred to the Lord. 

Brethren, I earnestly desire that you would prayer- 
fully ponder this view of the case, for I know no heresy 
more dangerous, and few more common, than that of 
those who think that religion is a thing only for the 
closet and the communion table, and who imagine 
that they can leave it behind them when they go to 
the exchange or to the workshop. The Lord Jesus will 
have no such allegiance. Wherever you are, if you 
profess to believe in him, he expects that you will 
hold yourselves at his disposal, and act as he has com- 
manded. On Monday is well as on Sunday; in the 
store, as well as at union table ; in the count- 



186 



THE TRUE CHRISTIAN HOLINESS. 



ing-room, as well as in the church. To the Christian 
there should be nothing purely secular. Everything 
he does, if done as it ought to be, for Jesus' sake, is 
holy ; and the implements with which we work — the 
needle, the pen, the hammer, or whatever else — if em- 
ployed for him, have on them, like the horse-bells of 
my text, " Holiness unto the Lord." Oh, how much 
better would we labor if, as we toil, there were in our 
hearts the feeling, " This is for the Lord ! " and how 
sedulously we would keep ourselves from sin if we 
trained ourselves into the constant remembrance that 
we are not our own, but Christ's ! You do not wonder 
at the nobility and excellence of Paul's life when in the 
very midst of the storm you hear him saying, " God, 
whose I am, and whom I serve." Let us have but 
that conviction deeply wrought into our souls, and we, 
too, shall make our lives bright with the effulgence 
of holiness, and benign with the blessing of benefi- 
cence. 

To this new covenant priesthood of common life let 
me anoint you to-day. I ask you not to set out on pil- 
grimage to the places associated with the Redeemer's 
life upon the earth. I set before you no tremendous 
undertaking like that quest of the Graal, for which 
the good Sir Galahad left the court of his beloved 
master. I do not bid you leave the haunts of men and 
spend your days in a hermitage or in conventual retire- 
ment. I beseech you only to recognize the importance 
of common life, and to consecrate that by seeking to 
do every lowliest thing unto the Lord. Let the mer- 
chant be content, for Christ's sake, to lose profits 
rather than stoop to fashionable dishonesty, and let 
him treat every customer as if he were the Lord Jesus ; 
let the mechanic seek to make every article that 
passes through his hands just as he would if he were 



the true christian holiness. 



187 



making it for the Lord ; let the mother brave the 
scorn of fashion and the ridicule of society rather 
than yield to customs which disgrace her womanhood, 
and let her endeavor daily to train her little ones in 
the nurture of the Lord ; let the legislator, spurning 
the offered bribe, be willing to forfeit the prize of 
party rather than do what he knows to be wrong, and 
let him shape his conduct always by the dictates of 
the Word of God rather than the maxims of expe- 
diency, and that will be holiness indeed. 

Our sanctuary services and our communion seasons 
will be little worth if they do not lead us thus to do 
everything in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. But 
wherever our piety is genuine and our consecration 
unreserved we shall seek in all things to glorify God. 
Let the attainment of this be the object for which we 
pray, and after which we strive. It will add happi- 
ness to our hearts and give influence to our lives. It 
will bring the dry details of business and domestic 
life into harmony with the devotions of the closet and 
the fellowship of the sanctuary ; we shall have beneath 
the bustle and activity and anxiety of commerce a 
hidden joy carrying, 

" Music in the heart 
'Mid dusky lane and wrangling mart, 
Plying our daily task with busier feet 
Because our secret souls a holy strain repeat." 

And in the end we shall receive from the lips of Him 
whose approbation is eternal honor the commenda- 
tion, "Well done ! Thou hast been faithful in a few 
things, I will make thee ruler over many things ; enter 
thou into the joy of thy Lord." If, therefore, Christ 
hath redeemed you by his precious blood, see that 
you consecrate yourself to him ; so will your heart be- 



188 



THE TRUE CHRISTIAN HOLINESS. 



come a die wherewith you shall enstamp on all you 
do, and on all you have, this expressive inscription, 
"Holiness unto the Lord." But remember, it must 
be in the heart first ! and to have it there you must 
lovingly and believingly receive Jesus as your Saviour 
and Sovereign. 



THE BUSINESS LIFE OF ABRAHAM. 



Genesis xv. 6.—" And lie (Abraham) believed in the Lord." 

To prevent misconception, let me say in the outset 
that my purpose this evening is to trace the influence 
of Abraham's faith on his dealings with his fellow- 
men. I shall not attempt to define to you the nature 
of faith ; neither shall I enter into any inquiry con- 
cerning the origin of the patriarch's belief in the unity 
of God, whereby he stands in close and intimate rela- 
tionship to the three great monotheistic communities 
of the world, namely, the Jewish, the Christian, and 
the Mohammedan, and is recognized as a Father by 
them all. My aim is at once more simple and more 
practical. I want to show you how that which was 
the great principle of Abraham's life colored and 
qualified his intercourse with those with whom he 
was brought into contact in the common details of 
every-day business. This is a view of his history 
which has been too largely overlooked. "We speak of 
him, indeed, as " the father of the faithful," but when 
we do so we have in mind mainly his prompt obedi- 
ence to God's command when he left Ur of the Chal- 
dees ; his patient waiting for the birth of Isaac ; his 
heroic willingness to sacrifice the child of the cove- 
nant even after he had received him ; and his long 
sojourn as a stranger in the land which God had 
promised to give him for his own. These, however, 
were all peculiar instances. "We feel as we read of 
them that these is and can be nothing precisely like 

189 



190 THE BUSINESS LIFE OF ABRAHAM. 

them in our modern life, and so, though we cannot 
but admire the spirit which he manifested in them 
all, they are so far away from us and so high above 
us, that we get little out of them to guide or assist us 
in the more commonplace difficulties which we are 
called to meet. Yet when we go over the history of 
the patriarch, brief and fragmentary as it is, we find 
other scenes, which come nearer the ordinary plane of 
our humanity, and from which we may draw lessons 
at once of warning and of cheer. Accordingly, my 
design to-night is to turn your attention to Abraham's 
dealings with men, that we may learn how faith in 
God elevates and purifies the conduct in all the rela- 
tionships of life. I shall confine myself to three inci- 
dents which have been preserved with more or less 
fulness in the sacred narrative. 

I. The first is contained in the thirteenth chapter of 
the Book of Genesis. It would appear that during 
their sojourn in Egypt the wealth of Abraham and 
Lot, which consisted largely in cattle, had greatly in- 
creased, so that when they returned to the place 
between Bethel and Hai, where he had built his first 
altar in Canaan, " the land was not able to bear them 
that they might dwell together." The first result of 
this lack of accommodation for them both was a strife 
between their respective herdmen, and foreseeing 
the complications which would inevitably arise, and 
which might end in their own utter estrangement from 
each other, "Abraham said unto Lot, Let there be no 
strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, and between 
my herdmen and thy herdmen, for we be brethren. 
Is not the whole land before thee ? Separate thy- 
self, I pray thee, from me : if thou wilt take to the 
left hand, then I will go to the right ; or if thou depart 



THE BUSINESS LIFE OF ABEAHAM. 



191 



to the right hand, then I will go to the left." And as 
the issue, Lot chose him all the plain of J ordan. 

Now, how admirable was all this ! Many good rea- 
sons might have been given by Abraham for claiming 
the first right of choice for himself. For one thing, he 
was the older man, and naturally might have expected 
that Lot would defer to him. For another thing, he 
might have reminded Lot that it was not he who had 
accompanied Lot, but Lot who had accompanied him, 
when together they had left their Chaldean home, and 
might have insisted that, simply on that ground, it 
was Lot's place to yield the preference to him. But 
no ! he gave up all such claims of priority, and in a 
manner at once chivalrous and disinterested said, " Is 
not the whole land before thee ? " Now, when we ask 
how Abraham came to act in this way, we see at once 
that his conduct was the outgrowth of his faith in 
God. For observe, in this very connection, indeed in the 
very middle of this history, it is said, " The Canaanite 
and the Perizzite dwelt then in the land." Now these 
were idolatrous and selfish tribes. They were at that 
very moment filling up the measure of their iniquity 
on account of which the land was taken from them and 
given to Abraham. It would never do, therefore, for 
the worshippers of the true God to quarrel before 
them. That would only give them occasion to blas- 
pheme Jehovah's name, and so bring his worship into 
contempt. Therefore, out of regard to the honor of the 
Lord, Abraham was ready to sacrifice his worldly in- 
terest rather than do anything which would tend to 
compromise the religion he professed. Moreover, the 
Lord had promised to provide for him. Ever since he 
had left the far land of Ur, he had looked upon him- 
self as the ward of God, and he was quite sure that 
God would take care of him. So, without either hes- 



192 



THE BUSINESS LIFE OF ABEAHAM. 



itation or misgiving, he made this proposal to his 
nephew, and as a proof that he had not miscalculated, 
we are told in the concluding yerses of the chap- 
ter that God appeared unto him, renewed the promise 
of the land of Canaan, and guided him to the plain 
of Mamre, near to that city of Hebron which to-day 
bears in its name El-Khulil — the friend — the memo- 
rial of his connection with its neighborhood. 

But now, rising from this old history and looking 
over the face of modern society, what " envying, strifes, 
wraths, backbitings, whisperings, swellings, tumults," 
might be prevented in households, neighborhoods, 
churches, nations, by acting on the principles which 
animated Abraham here? We cannot imitate his 
faith in offering up his son upon the altar, but we 
might profitably follow his example in these matters 
of courtesy and disinterestedness. For how far we 
are, in all the relationships of life, from doing any- 
thing of the kind is very well known to all of us. 
There for instance are two men in the same business, 
and there is not enough for both ; but the one hap- 
pens to have more capital than the other, and so he 
commences to undersell him by putting down his prices 
to a figure that is absolutely dishonest, and then, when 
he has closed his neighbor up, and secured all the 
trade for himself, he begins to reimburse himself at 
his leisure. In the good old days of the fathers, the 
maxim used to be, " Live and let live," but now, in the 
selfishness of competition, men trample each other 
down, and virtually say, "Die, that I may live." Or 
look at it in another sphere : there are two railway 
companies, each connecting the same great centers 
of commerce with each other. There is enough pro- 
bably for both, if they were only to be mutually 



THE BUSINESS LIFE OF ABRAHAM. 



193 



considerate. But so far from that, each wishes to 
have the larger share; and so they run each other 
down and down, until shareholders are ruined, and 
employes are ground to the lowest farthing; and 
then! such scenes as were lately witnessed in the 
land come to alarm and appall. 

Nor is this evil confined to commerce. To the dis- 
grace of our Christianity, there is the same suicidal 
rivalry among churches. You shall have a small rural 
community, with a population only sufficient to sustain 
properly one Christian minister, who might also meet 
all the demands of the place. Perhaps the Metho- 
dists, with their well-known promptitude and zeal, are 
the first to see its needs, and they erect in it a house 
of worship, in which for a time all meet in harmony. 
But by and by the few Episcopalians among them have 
a strong desire to enjoy their service ; then the few 
Baptists among them wish to withdraw to a church of 
their own ; then the Congregationalists and the Pres- 
byterians, not to be behind the others, must have their 
separate establishments ; and so at length there are 
four or five weak and languishing societies, supported 
too perhaps by denominational home missionary funds, 
where there might have been and ought to have been 
but one. All this while, too, there are new villages in 
the West springing up year after year, in each of which 
it is hard for our benevolent associations to sustain for 
the time even one evangelistic agent. Now what shall 
we say to these things ? Do they not all spring from 
our lack of consideration for each other? Is not that 
itself a result of our deficiency in faith such as Abra- 
ham had? And are not the Canaanite and the Perizzite 
laughing us to scorn ? You say to me that competition 
is the life of trade. But I reply that trade is for the 
community, not the community for trade. You tell me 
9 



194 



THE BUSINESS LIFE OF ABRAHAM. 



that denominationalism has its uses, and I am not here 
now to dispute that ; but I reply that, whatever these 
uses are, denominationalism is for Christianity, not 
Christianity for denominationalism, and if one of them 
must go to the wall, I say, perish denominationalism, 
that Christianity may live. Is it so, my brethren, 
that neither business can thrive nor churches be ad- 
vanced without selfishness that tramples others down ? 
"What is your faith in God worth if you can believe 
that? I had rather lose all I have than become rich 
by ruining another man. And if a new church can be 
started only by undermining and destroying one al- 
ready in existence, I would not, knowingly, be guilty 
of helping to establish it. There is plenty of room in 
the world, and plenty of work to be done in it for God, 
and if we wish to do that work, let us go elsewhere 
and begin. Then, as we go, we may find that we too 
have risen to the height of Abraham's faith, when he 
left his father's house and went to the land which God 
would show him. 

II. The second incident in Abraham's life to which 
I would direct your attention is described in the four- 
teenth chapter of this same book. "We have there the 
first written record which the world contains of war, 
and from it we learn that the Eastern tribes had made 
the inhabitants of what is now the Dead Sea Yalley 
tributary. For twelve years the vanquished cities 
were content to remain under this yoke ; but, rebelling 
in the thirteenth year, they were in the fourteenth in- 
vaded by their oppressors. At first Abraham, as a 
stranger and sojourner in the land, took no part with 
either combatant ; but when he learned that the in- 
vaders had not only conquered their former vassals, 
but also carried away with them his kinsman Lot as a. 



THE BUSINESS LITE OE ABEAHAM. 



195 



prisoner, he armed his trained servants, and pursued 
them up the valley of the Jordan, and smote them, 
and "brought back all the goods, and his kinsman Lot, 
and the women also, and the people." On his return, 
and when he had come near to the site on which Jeru- 
salem afterward stood, he was met by two very differ- 
ent personages. The first was that mysterious monarch 
Melchizedek, concerning whom so much has been writ- 
ten and so many different theories have been main- 
tained. I enter not now on the consideration of any 
of these, but take the narrative in its simplest sense. 
To me, then, he seems to have been the one prominent 
representative of the worship of the true God remain- 
ing in the land. He combined in himself the two offices 
of priest and king. In these capacities it is quite 
likely that he was already known to Abraham, and as 
being one in their faith so far (for Abraham seems to 
have been more advanced than Melchizedek, inasmuch 
as God to the latter was the Most High, and to the for- 
mer Jehovah), they were naturally drawn to each other. 
Abraham was all that Melchizedek was, and a little 
more. Still, recognizing in the king a priest of the 
true God, he willingly received bread and wine from 
his hands, and gladly consented to be blessed by him 
in his official capacity, while he gave to him, as the 
representative of God, a tenth part of the spoil. 

Yery different was the other personage who stood 
by, perhaps with undisguised scorn, while all this in- 
terchange of spiritual communion was passing between 
Abraham and Melchizedek. He was Bera, the King 
of Sodom, one of the vilest cities the world has ever 
known, and probably himself one of its vilest inhabi- 
tants. With something of haughty condescension in 
his manner, he said to Abraham, " Give me the per- 
sons and take the goods thyself." But Abraham made 



196 



THE BUSINESS LIFE OF ABEAHAM. 



reply : " I have lifted up my hand unto the Lord, the 
most high God, the possessor of heaven and earth, 
that I will not take from a thread even to a shoe-latchet, 
and that I will not take anything that is thine, lest 
thou shouldest say, I have made Abraham rich : save 
only that which the young men have eaten, and the 
portion of the men which went with me, Aner, Esh- 
col, and Mamre; let them take their portion." 

In all this we have another illustration of the 
strength of Abraham's faith. It kept him equally re- 
moved from ascetic seclusion on the one hand, and 
worldly conformity on the other. He did not scruple 
to work with ungodly allies when he was himself 
clearly in the path of duty. Lot was a prisoner. There 
was no question in his mind that he should do his 
utmost to deliver his kinsman ; and though he could 
hope for success in that only by joining himself for the 
time with the Canaanitish sheiks, and seeming to be 
on the side of the King of Sodom, yet he did not hesi- 
tate to take that course and leave the issue with God. 
Herein he has left us an example which is not without 
its significance ; for there are movements, some politi- 
cal and some moral, in our city and in our land, in 
which we can hope to succeed only by accepting the 
alliance of men with whom in the highest parts of our 
nature we have no sympathy whatever ; and there are 
many among us who stand aloof because they do not 
wish to be brought into contact with such characters. 
"What is it but a widespread feeling of this sort which 
has given the regulation of municipal affairs among 
us into the hands of men who have in many cases 
neither the confidence nor the respect of the Christian 
portion of the community? But for Christians to 
stand aloof in these circumstances and let things take 
their course is the merest cowardice. Say not to me 



The business life of abeaham. 



197 



that you are seeking thereby to keep yourselves pure. 
Do your duty, and leave the consequences to God. 
Believe me, he will not let you suffer from that which 
you undertake out of a regard to his glory and the 
welfare of your fellow-men. 

So, again, there are many enterprises of benevolence 
in which the deliverance of our fellow-men from the mis- 
ery of disease or poverty cannot be accomplished by us, 
unless we consent to work with persons of whose char- 
acters we cannot in all respects approve. What then ? 
Must we refuse to sit at a benevolent board because 
Aner, Eshcol, and Mamre are there also ? As well 
might we decline to lend a hand in the extinguishing 
of a destructive fire, because we saw one of the great- 
est roughs of the neighborhood holding the hose ! No ! 
no ! So long as we are in the world we shall have to 
meet the men of the world ; we shall have to work with 
them, too, in benevolent matters, if at least we would 
set free the Lots whom tyrannous evils have taken 
captive ; and they who hold back from the fear of con- 
tamination are signally deficient in that faith for which 
Abraham was so remarkable. 

But notice, again, that this old patriarch would not 
allow the presence of the ungodly to keep him from 
showing honor to God in the person of his priest. 
When Melchizedek came forth to meet him, Abraham 
did not treat him with coldness, because he happened 
at the moment to be in company with the King of 
Sodom. On the contrary, he showed him special honor, 
was not ashamed to receive his benediction, and gave 
him, without asking any one's leave, a tithe of the 
spoils. Now there was true courage ! Abraham was 
not ashamed of his religion, and, when the occasion 
offered, he was ready to make it known. He did not 
hide his flag, but let it flutter openly in the breeze. 



198 THE BUSINESS LIFE OF ABKAHAM . 



And what a lesson is there in all this for us ! It is 
hard enough for many of us to confess Christ in the 
midst of a company of his friends, and multitudes are 
altogether ashamed of him in the presence of his ene- 
mies. If a stranger happens to be our guest, and we 
know that he ridicules religion, we omit family wor- 
ship for that evening. If a friend not remarkable for 
spirituality calls upon us on the Lord's day, and the 
time comes for us to go to the sanctuary, we are afraid 
to say anything about it, and we remain at home with 
him. If, in our business hours, a brother comes and 
speaks to us about spiritual things, in a style that 
might be as refreshing to us as the bread and wine of 
Melchizedek were to Abraham, we see a smile of con- 
tempt on the countenance of our worldly customer, 
and we plead that we are too much engaged at present 
to give him any more of our time. And if one waits 
upon us in the name of Christ, and asks our pecuni- 
ary help for his cause, we have no tithes to give him, 
and too frequently consider him as an intruder. Why 
is this ? Ah, friends ! let us be honest and confess it 
frankly, it is because we do not really believe that 
our chief business is with God, or that our strongest 
obligations are to him. 

But still farther here, observe how Abraham would 
not consent to be laid under any debt of any sort what- 
ever to the King of Sodom. He could take refresh- 
ment and a blessing from the hand of Melchizedek, but 
he would receive nothing from Bera. Why this dis- 
tinction? The only answer we can give is because of 
the different characters of the two men. With Mel- 
chizedek he was safe ; but how did he know that Bera 
would not claim from him some return which he could 
not conscientiously make ? Therefore he would fetter 
himself with no entanglement. I think it was William 



THE BUSINESS LIFE OF ABRAHAM. 



199 



Wilberforce, who, on being requested to use his influ- 
ence with William Pitt, to obtain an office for some 
friend, declared that he never had asked, and never 
would accept, any such favor from any government, 
because he wished to preserve his independence. His 
heart was set on securing the emancipation of the 
slave, and knowing that " a gift blindeth the eyes," he 
would not receive any office from any one, lest it should 
weaken the force of his protest against that which he 
believed to be " the sum of all the villainies." "What a 
lesson for all ! Oh for the faith of Abraham that we 
may learn it well ! 

III. The last incident from Abraham's life to which 
I shall call attention to-night, is his purchase of the 
cave of Machpelah, a transaction which is very graphi- 
cally described in the twenty-third chapter of Genesis. 
His beloved Sarah had breathed her last, and he was 
seeking for a place of burial wherein to lay her re- 
mains. Commonly in these circumstances men go 
back to the old homestead, and lay their dead beside 
the ashes of their fathers. But had Abraham acted 
on that principle, and carried the body of Sarah to 
Ur of the Chaldees, he would have seemed to give 
up all hold of the promise which assured him that 
Canaan was to be the possession of his children. He 
knew how associations twine, year after year, around 
the God's-acre which contains all that was mortal of 
our dead, and he wished, in coming days, that such 
associations for his children should cluster, as they 
did, around the land of promise. Therefore he de- 
termined to bury Sarah in the neighborhood of 
Hebron ; but to have her sepulchre thus, as it were, 
the first earnest of the great inheritance, it was 
necessary that it should be acknowledged on all 



200 THE BUSINESS LIFE OF ABRAHAM. 

hands as his own. So he resolved to purchase it, 
and we have in the history a most charming descrip- 
tion of the whole negotiations. Seeking the interces- 
sion of his neighbors, the children of Heth, with 
Ephron the son of Zohar, he made his proposal to 
the latter with great courtesy, at the gate of the 
city, and in the audience of all the people. After 
a fashion still prevalent in the East, Ephron made 
as if he would give the land to Abraham for nothing, 
in the hope perhaps of getting more than its value 
afterwards under the name of a present. But Abra- 
ham firmly though kindly declined to take it on any 
such terms ; and then, an agreement having been 
made for four hundred shekels, he weighed them 
honestly out, and had the boundaries defined, so that 
in all after time there might be no dispute. 

Now, what I wish to emphasize here is the open, 
manly honesty of Abraham. There was no cheapening 
of the price — nothing of "It is naught, it is naught, 
saith the buyer : and when he is gone his way, then he 
boasteth." Here were only civility, courtesy, and in- 
tegrity. He did everything in a business way, but he 
had respect for others as well as for himself. He re- 
cognized that there was another hearer than the mul- 
titudes assembled at the city gate, even God himself, 
and he did not choose that He should hear anything 
of rudeness, or selfishness, or dishonesty from his 
lips. Oh, how much more pleasantly business would 
be conducted among ourselves if we were to act in 
this way ! But too many of us are constantly on the 
watch for an advantage ! The seller's maxim too fre- 
quently is the selfish one of the Romans, " Caveat emp- 
tor" — let the buyer look out for himself. And the 
buyer is, on his side, too frequently just as eagerly 
anxious to overreach the seller. It is far too often 



THE BUSINESS LIFE OF ABEAHAM. £01 

" diamond cut diamond " between them. But that 
both are bad does not excuse either, and God is listening 
to both. Ah! if we all remembered that, our stores 
would be different places from what they often are, and 
business would rise to its ancient and irreproachable 
renown. Faith in God — such faith as Abraham had — 
that is still the great necessity of life. For pureness, 
for integrity, for liberality, for courage, for courtesy, 
this is what we mainly need. It is as true to-day as 
when John wrote the words, " This is the victory that 
over cometh the world, even our faith." 

It would be wrong, however, if I were to leave you 
with the impression that Abraham never acted in any 
way dishonorably or deceitfully, for on at least two 
memorable occasions, when he imagined his life to 
be in danger owing to the beauty of Sarah, he was 
guilty of falsehood, and the scheme which he con- 
cocted might have issued most disastrously had it not 
been for the interposition of God. So we see that in 
the best of mere men there is no perfection. But it is 
more to the purpose to point out that we are in dan- 
ger often just where we are strongest, for it was in 
the very faith which was his characteristic grace that 
Abraham failed. So it will not do for us to imagine 
that our characters are so surely established in any 
grace that we may slacken our vigilance regarding it. 
In Moses, it was meekness ; in Job, it was patience ; 
in Elijah, it was courage that failed ; and after such 
examples let no man think himself secure. 

Furthermore, let us remember that our faith is in 
greatest danger when we think that our life is in 
peril. That was the fear before which Abraham fell. 
Strangely enough, he does not seem to have had any 
great concern about Sarah ! Indeed, that is so strange 
as to be wellnigh incomprehensible to me, except 
9* 



20'2 tHE BUSINESS LIFE OF ABRAHAM. 

on the ground of the prevalence of loose notions 
on such matters in those early days in the East. 
But he feared first that Pharaoh, and afterwards that 
Abimelech, would slay him for his wife's sake. So the 
dread of death brought him into this snare. " Skin for 
skin, yea, all that a man hath will he give for his 
life," said Satan. His words are not absolutely true, 
for he found out that Job would not give his integrity 
for his life, and the honor-roll of the noble army of 
martyrs is composed of the names of those who pre- 
ferred principle and allegiance to God to life. But 
for the average of men Satan's assertion is not far 
from the truth, and it is in this way that he, for the 
most part, seeks to break them down. He makes 
something appear to be necessary to them as a means 
of support, and persuades them that if they give it up 
they will starve. Now let us guard just there ! and 
when he says, " You must live," reply, " No ! my life 
is God's affair, and he will sustain it as long as he 
needs me on the earth ; but my conduct is my affair, 
and I will not do that sinful thing though I should 
die." Ah ! how many criminals in our States' prisons, 
how many broken-hearted women who have sold their 
honor for bread, might have been saved if they had 
met temptation so ! 

Every reader of Macaulay's works has had his pulses 
quickened by the ringing words which he puts into 
the mouth of an old Boman patriot on a day of dan- 
ger : 

"To every man upon this earth death cometh soon or late; 
And how can man die better than in facing fearful odds, 
For the ashes of his fathers and the temples of his gods ? " 

But there is a nobler death even than that. It is 
the death of him who perishes facing and resisting 



BUSINESS LIFE OF ABBAHAM. 203 

evil, not at the stake merely, but in common life, that 
he may keep his conscience undefiled and his heart 
true to God. May God help us always by faith in 
himself to conquer every adversary, and then for us 
will be the realization of the promise, " To him that 
overcometh will I grant to sit with me on my throne, 
even as I also overcame, and am set down with my 
Father on his throne." Amen. 



APPREHENDED THAT I MAY APPRE 
HEND. 



Philippians iii. 12. — " I follow after, if that I may apprehend that 
for which also I am apprehended of Christ Jesus." 

These words belong to one of those autobiographi- 
cal passages which every reader recognizes as among 
the most effective portions of the letters of Paul. His 
allusions to his public discourses or his pastoral hab- 
its are mainly interesting to those who are invested 
with the office of the ministry. His references to his 
apostleship are especially valuable to the student who 
desires to know something of the organization of the 
primitive Church. But such personal utterances as 
this belong to us all alike. Here is a man of like pas- 
sions with ourselves. Here is an experience nearly 
akin to our own. Here is a model, not for the study 
or the pulpit merely, but for life in whatever circum- 
stances. Here is something that may tell us, not how 
we may become great Christian preachers, but how 
we may prosecute our high calling as followers of 
Jesus, while yet we are caged and conditioned by the 
lower calling of our business or our domestic duties. 
Paul the apostle, the preacher, the miracle-worker, 
the martyr, seems a great way above us and a long 
way off ; but Paul the man, the Christian, is on the 
same plane with us and very near, and his experience 
must be helpful to us in every condition of life. Let 
me, therefore, endeavor, without further preface, to 
bring out before you some of the important truths 

204 



APPBEHENT>ED THAT I MAY APPBEHEND. 205 

which have been suggested to me by this text, taken 
in connection with its surroundings. 

I. Paul was apprehended by Christ. In simpler 
phrase, he was laid hold of by Christ. The reference 
is undeniably to the incidents connected with his con- 
version, with which every reader of the New Testa- 
ment is familiar. As he journeyed toward Damascus 
with one set of ideas and one definite aim, the Lord 
appeared unto him, and forthwith a thorough shock 
was given to his opinions, his principles, his ambi- 
tions. In that critical moment a light flashed upon 
him which, though it blinded his outer vision, irradi- 
ated his soul within and let him see how poor the life 
was that he was leading, and how miserable the end was 
that he was seeking, while, at the same time it opened 
up before him the vision of an ambition worthier of 
one who was an heir of immortality. It gave him a 
glimpse of a loftier ideal than, up to that moment, he 
had ever dreamed of, and such a glimpse, that his 
soul was filled with it. He did not so much possess 
it as he was for the time possessed by it. It laid hold 
of him and held him. It would not let him go, indeed, 
until he had definitely and deliberately decided whether 
he would accept of it or not. 

Now what was it that thus, as I may say, arrested 
Paul ? It was the perception — none the less clear that 
it was the effect of a moment — it was the perception 
of a noble perfection of moral character as that was 
actualized before him in the Lord Jesus Christ, 
and made possible for him through faith in that 
Divine Kedeemer. Up till this time he had been seek- 
ing external things — a position in the state, a repu- 
tation for punctilious obedience to ritualistic rubrics, 
a name for zeal for the religion of his fathers ; but now, 



206 APPKEHENDED THAT I MAY APPKEHEND. 



with the vision of the Christ, there came upon him, 
sudden and vivid as a flash of lightning, the conviction 
that, even if he gained all these things, he would still 
be fatally defective in the highest elements of his 
being, he would still be without that inner character 
which consists in likeness to God, and that abiding 
happiness which springs from communion with God. 
There and thus, therefore, was he confronted with the 
great question, " Shall I go on and be content with 
the hollowness of Phariseeism and its inevitable issue ? 
or shall I go back and build my life anew after the 
matchless pattern which has just been set before me ? 
Is my ideal still to be that of some famous Rabban, or 
is it to be the spiritual perfection which I have just 
seen in Christ ? " He could not get away from this 
until he had given it an answer. He had come to a 
cross-road, and he must stand still until he had chosen 
which pathway he would take. He was thus for the 
moment arrested, or apprehended, by the Lord Jesus. 

"But what," you say, " has all this to do with me ? 
Was there not miracle here, and how can there be 
anything in this that touches me ? " Let us see. Have 
you never been laid hold of by a similar discovery of 
yourself, and a similar perception of a noble, godlike 
ideal in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ? 
There might be nothing of miracle in your case, but 
has there never been any such arresting or apprehen- 
sion of you ? I make bold to say, that there is not 
one who has ever come into contact with the gospel of 
Christ who has not been, at some stage or other of 
his history, laid hold of thus. Young man, whosoever 
you are, you have had already an experience of this 
very kind. As you have been devoting yourself to 
the idolatry of wealth, or to the pursuit of pleasure, 
or to the race for position and preferment in the state, 



APPREHENDED THAT I MAY APPREHEND. 207 



you have been met even as Paul was at Damascus, 
and laid hold of by the Lord. He has come to you 
through the faithful preacher, who has exposed the 
hollowness of all things save character, and has shown 
you how that can be truly and nobly formed only by 
union to the Lord Jesus ; or he has brought you to 
a stand-still by the death of some companion or 
fellow-student, who but a few hours before was as rol- 
licking and careless as yourself ; or he has laid his 
hand on you in sickness and held you to your couch, 
face to face with the question, " Have I been living 
a life such as an immortal man should live ? " My 
middle-aged friend, you know about this too. Ah ! 
how the Lord apprehended you and asked you to re- 
vise all your theories of life that day when you buried 
your darling little one out of your sight ! Paul did 
not see more through the vision that came to him by 
the way, than you did that day through the telescope 
of your own tear as it dropped upon her bier. Did 
he not arrest you, too, my hearer, in a similar way, 
when your business went all wrong, and the en- 
terprise to which you had given all your energies 
burst like a bubble in an infant's hand ? Was there 
no cry from him to you then, as he held you and 
would not let you go, "Wherefore do ye spend your 
labor for that which satisfieth not ? Incline your ear, 
and come unto me : hear, and your soul shall live." 
Need I go further in this line ? Is there one here to- 
day who has not been laid hold of thus ? If there be, 
may Christ arrest him now, as I ask him these ques- 
tions : " Will the course of life you are living in now 
do to die in ? What if you had already gained all 
you are seeking? Would you be happier, nobler, 
or stronger in that which is the essence of your na- 
sure, namely, your character? What does your life 



208 APPREHENDED THAT I MAY APPREHEND. 



look like in the face of Christ and at the foot of his 
cross ? Could you go again where you went last night, 
if you knew that Jesus should meet you at the thresh- 
old, and say to you, ' Thou fool, this night thy soul 
shall be required of thee ' ? If you have never been 
apprehended before, I arrest you now, in the name of 
the Lord Jesus." Thus saith the Lord : " Consider 
your ways. Ponder the path of your feet. Stand ye 
in the ways, and see and ask for the old paths, where 
is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall find 
rest for your souls.'* 

II. Observe, secondly, that Paul did not refuse to 
lay hold of that which the Lord Jesus set before him. 
There is here, therefore, a human agency as well as 
a divine. The Lord Jesus does not apprehend a man 
and compel him against his will, and in violation of 
his free agency, to enter upon another life. That is 
the notion which many people have of conversion. 
They suppose that the Holy Spirit is to come like 
some rushing mighty wind, and whirl them into the 
kingdom, altogether irrespective of any choice of their 
own, and, indeed, whether they will or not. So they 
give themselves no trouble upon the matter. They 
are "waiting for the Spirit." Now see how false, in 
the light of Paul's own conversion, all such views are, 
If ever there was a case in which a man might have 
been said to have been altogether passive in the crisis 
of conversion, it was certainly this of the apostle. 
Yet though he was apprehended by Christ, the great 
change was not completed until he had himself appre- 
hended that for which Christ had arrested him. The 
stopping of him in his career, the setting of the truth 
before him, the giving to him of a vision of the exalted 
nobleness of life in Christ, all that was done for him. 



APPREHENDED THAT I MAY APPREHEND. 209 

But he had to choose for himself whether or not he 
would transfer himself from the service of the world 
to the service of Christ, and when the cry came out, 
"Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" the new life 
had begun. He had entered upon the path which the 
Kedeemer opened up to him. He had set out in the 
pursuit of that new ideal which Christ had shown 
him. 

But not every one who has been laid hold of by 
Christ has thus responded to the Lord's appeal. 
Many have been apprehended who have failed them- 
selves to lay hold of that for which they had been 
arrested. In this connection can we forget that young 
ruler before whose eye the Lord Jesus opened up a 
magnificent prospect of a useful and holy life, to be 
entered through the gate of self-sacrifice, and who 
" went away sorrowful," making what the poet Dante 
has suggestively styled "the Great Refusal"? Or can 
we help thinking of Herod, whose better nature re- 
sponded to the Baptist's appeal ; or of Felix, who shud- 
dered as Paul showed him the fearful abyss on whose 
giddy edge he was at the moment standing ; or of 
Agrippa, who was " almost persuaded " to lay hold of 
eternal life ? Each of these had Paul's opportunity, 
but oh, how signally they failed to improve it ! They 
were apprehended, but they did not apprehend ! Or, 
taking a modern instance, who that has read that mel- 
ancholy autobiography left behind him by John Stuart 
Mill can help recalling here the description which he 
has given of that which might have been the religious 
crisis of his life ? These are his words : " I was in a 
dull state of nerves, such as everybody is occasionally 
liable to, unsusceptible to enjoyment or pleasurable 
excitement — one of those moods when what is pleasure 
at other times becomes insipid or indifferent— the 



210 APPREHENDED THAT I MAY APPREHEND. 

state, I should think, in which converts to Methodism 
usually are when smitten by their first ' conviction of 
sin.' In this frame of mind it occurred to me to put 
the question directly to myself : ' Suppose that all your 
objects in life were realized ; that all the changes in 
institutions and opinions which you are looking for- 
ward to could be completely effected at this very in- 
stant; would this be a great joy and happiness to 
you ? ' And an irrepressible self-consciousness dis- 
tinctly answered, ' No.' At this my heart sank within 
me ; the whole foundation on which my life was con- 
structed fell down. All my happiness was to have been 
found in the continual pursuit of this end. The end 
had ceased to charm, and how could there ever again 
be any interest in the means? I seemed to have 
nothing left to live for." * Thus even to him, nurtured 
though he had been in atheism, and educated without 
a religion, the Saviour came, laying on him his arrest- 
ing hand, and beseeching him to adopt a more stable 
foundation for his life. But alas ! he too made " the 
great refusal" and deliberately put away from him 
that which would have furnished him with a model 
that can never lose its relative superiority, no matter 
how we ourselves may grow, and with a motive that 
can never lose its power. 

But why need I direct your attention thus to oth- 
ers? There are those here now who, though they 
have been laid hold of by Christ, it may be on 
more than one occasion, have never yet laid hold of 
that to which he summoned them. They have seen 
as plainly as possible the wrongness of their pres- 
ent course, but they have not chosen to give it up 
for the way of Christ. Why? Because, to do that 



* Autobiography, by John Stuart Mill, pp. 133, 134. 



APPREHENDED THAT I MAY APPREHEND. 21l 

would have involved the sacrifice of all that hitherto 
they have cherished. They were not prepared, like 
Paul, to " count as loss " those things which were for- 
merly gain to them. They were not ready to part 
with their worldly pleasures, or even with their beset- 
ting sins, for Christ. As Herod was wedded to Hero- 
dias, as Felix was devoted in heart to Drusilla and his 
bribes, as Agrippa was dazzled by the glittering pomp 
of his own royalty, so they have been married to the 
world, and they have kept that rather than give it up 
for Christ. But is not this procedure on your part, my 
friends (for I must expostulate with you regarding it), 
the course of folly? What can the world do for you 
that for its sake you should put away from you the 
glorious heritage which Jesus promises? Its riches 
cannot confer happiness ; and even though they could, 
they are delusive, and may perish in a moment, while 
you can take none of them with you into the world 
beyond, for " there are no pockets in a shroud." Its 
pleasures even, as described by one who knew them 
well, are transient, 

"Like the snow falls in the river, 
A moment white, then melts forever." 

Nay, they are like the prophet's roll, sweet in the mouth 
but bitter in the belly ; there is nothing enduring about 
them but the sting they leave behind them. Its hon- 
ors are evanescent ; its fame is empty. Is it for these 
things, then, and things like these, that you would bar- 
ter that glory, a glimpse of which the Christ has given 
you ? But, more than this, perishing as they are, the 
world's things are unsatisfying. Is it not true of you, 
too, that even if you were at this moment to obtain all 
that heretofore you have been living for, you would not 
be happy, because you would not be able to respect 



212 APPEEHENDED THAT I MAY APPEEHEND. 

yourselves, or to feel that, as before God, you had lived 
for any noble and enduring end ? You would have in 
you nothing of that purity of heart which is needful to 
the vision of God. Why then persist in such a course ? 
" For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole 
world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man 
give in exchange for his soul ? " 

III. I remark, thirdly, that Paul was not content 
with a mere partial attainment of that which Christ 
had set before him. Hear his words : " Not as though 
I had already attained, either were already perfect." 
And again : " Brethren, I count not myself to have ap- 
prehended." Yet if any man might have been excused 
for cherishing feelings of complacency regarding him- 
self, that man was Paul. He had done and suffered 
much for Christ. He had given up at the time of his 
conversion what to most might seem the fairest polit- 
ical prospects ; and from that moment on he had lived 
in poverty, in danger, in unwearied labor, and in con- 
tinuous self-denial. As he looked at the large cities 
which he had visited, and the flourishing churches 
which he had founded, he might feel that he had not 
lived in vain ; while his character had developed, un- 
der the teaching of the Holy Spirit, into a symmetri- 
cal unity, which mirrored, more completely than any 
other man's has ever done, the perfection of the Lord 
Jesus. Yet he says, "I have not attained." He did 
not go to sleep over the singularity of his conversion 
and exclaim, " Because the Lord appeared unto me in 
the way, therefore I need concern myself no more. I 
at least am safe." He did not rock himself in the cra- 
dle of his apostolic success and say, " Because I have 
done so much, I need do nothing more." He did not 
soothe himself with the opiate of his official position 



APPREHENDED THAT I MAY APPREHEND. 213 

in the church, saying, "Am not I an apostle, why 
should I give myself uneasiness ? " No, ever as he 
moved on, his eye was fixed on Christ. The more 
elevated he became in character, the more elevated 
Christ became to him. Every new attainment which 
he made opened his eye to something more that was 
to be attained, and so he followed on, still pursuing 
the great ambition with which his heart was fired 
when first he consented to be the Lord's. " I follow 
after," and again, " forgetting those things which are 
behind, and reaching forth unto those things which 
are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the 
high calling of God in Christ Jesus." 

Now there is much here to instruct us ; for is not 
the idea too prevalent among us that religion consists 
more in the recollection of a certain critical experi- 
ence, or the taking of a certain ecclesiastical position, 
than in the daily approximation of the character to 
that of Christ ? One remembers a time when he be- 
lieved in the Lord Jesus, as the phrase is, and came 
into church. He has been converted. He has made 
a profession of religion. Better still, perhaps, he is a 
Sabbath-school teacher, and there is nothing wrong 
with his outward life, or perhaps he has succeeded in 
slaying one evil habit — say intemperance or profane 
swearing — and so he thinks that all is well, and that 
he needs not concern himself much more about any- 
thing. His religion is a matter settled, shelved, and 
done with. Now let such an one lay himself alongside 
of the apostle here, and see how insignificant he looks. 
In the one case you have a wizened, wilted, dried- 
up branch ; in the other, you have a growing tree, 
sending out its branches in luxuriant leanness, and 
having on its boughs many birds that sing for glad- 
ness. It will not do, my hearer, to live upon some 



214 APPEEHEKDED THAT I MAY APPKEHEND. 

past experience ; and if you are complacently strok- 
ing yourself down, as one of those who need not be 
troubled about anything, because you remember that 
you once believed, then let me tell you that you 
have had an entirely wrong idea of the purpose for 
which the Lord laid hold of you at that particular 
time. You think that he did so merely to save you 
from punishment for your sins, and, doubtless, that 
was in his intention too ; but the main object he had 
in view was to stir you up to the formation of a char- 
acter like his own, and that is a work that will never 
be finished on earth, if, indeed, it ever will be even in 
heaven. I would desire, therefore, to shake you out 
of your complacency, by letting you see how much 
there is yet between you and your Lord. Tell us less 
about what is behind. Don't be always recounting 
the story of your conversion. Forget even, for the 
time, the occasion of your joining the church. Look 
forward. Yonder is Christ. See how far you are yet 
from him. Would it not be better, therefore, for you 
to let the past alone, and seek nearer conformity to 
him? That the vessel has been launched is much, 
but that will not take her across the ocean. No, 
you must weigh anchor, and get up steam, and set 
out, and keep on taking your observations day by 
day, if you mean to do that. Forward, then, my 
brother, there remaineth very much to be attained! 
and if you would apprehend it easily, you must keep 
advancing. You cannot walk swiftly, let alone run, if 
you are forever looking over your shoulder at that 
which is behind. "Kemember Lot's wife," and take 
heed lest, as you cast those lingering looks behind you, 
there come some sweeping storm of judgment that 
shall make you, too, a basaltic beacon of warning for 
every after age. 



APPREHENDED THAT I MAY APPREHEND. 215 

IV. I remark, finally, that Paul was not discouraged 
because he had not yet fully apprehended. There is 
here no note of despondency, far less any indication of 
despair. His words are full of the joyful exhilaration 
of heart which one feels as he climbs some Alpine 
height, and pictures to his imagination the glorious 
panorama that shall open to his gaze when he reaches 
the summit. 

Now there are three elements in this aspiration of 
the apostle's which I should like to bring out for the 
encouragement of some among us, whose continual 
lamentation it is that they cannot actualize in their 
own characters the perfection which they see before 
them in Christ. The first is, that the joy of the human 
soul is inseparably connected with the effort to reach 
that which is above it. I recall here the story of the 
artist, who, standing before the latest production of 
his hands, burst into tears, and on being asked for the 
reason of his emotion, replied, " Because I am satis- 
fied with my work." He felt he had done all that was 
in him ; that, in a word, he had overtaken his ideal, 
and so henceforward the joy of his art for him was gone. 
Perhaps, too, it was something of the same sort that 
made Alexander weep when he had conquered India. 
He had filled in the outline of his life which he had 
made for himself, and thought not that there was yet 
another world left him where conquest would be far 
more honorable, even the world within himself. But 
the Christian is delivered from this danger. He has 
always the joy of advancement, while yet there is ever 
something more in Christ beckoning him forward. 

Again, in the apostle's aspiration there was to him- 
self the evidence that he had made some progress. 
It is a helpful saying of one author here, " That which 
is best in you is your appreciation of that which is 



216 APPREHENDED THAT I MAY APPREHEND. 



better than you." * Hence your consciousness that 
you are so far from Christ is, on the other side of it, an 
evidence that you are also very far removed from that 
world which formerly crucified him for being what he 
was, and which still rejects his principles and exam- 
ple. You would not desire to be like Christ, if there 
were not that in him which attracts you to him, and the 
fact that you are so drawn to him is itself an assur- 
ance of your relationship to him which may well drive 
away all despondency. The Christian's aspirations 
after God are inspirations from God, and at the same 
time prophecies that they shall yet be satisfied in God. 

Once more, there is in this aspiration of the apos- 
tle the consciousness that he is not striving merely in 
his own might. He knows that " he has a guide to lead 
him, and a hand to hold him up." The Lord, who 
showed him the gate at first, and asked whether he 
would not choose to enter upon the pathway, will 
help him all through, and so without any wavering or 
any misgiving, without one regret for the past or one 
fear for the future, he presses on for the mark of the 
prize of the high calling of God in Christ. Nor was 
he disappointed in his expectations, for even when he 
lay in the Roman dungeon, and was daily expecting to 
be led forth to execution, he could thankfully say, ' ' I 
have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I 
have kept the faith ; henceforth there is laid up for 
me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the 
righteous judge, will give me in that day." 

But he who helped Paul will help us. Courage, 
then, my brother. Do not despond though you may 
be yet far from the goal. Christ will sustain and 
strengthen you. "You are not called to be equal 



*Lynch's Sermons for my Curates, p. 291. 



APPREHENDED THAT I MAY APPREHEND. 217 

to him," but only to be his disciple, and as such he 
" will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which 
thou shalt go : he will guide thee with his eye." With 
his eye — what a beautiful and suggestive phrase! 
The little toddling infant in its first attempts to walk 
is steadied by looking into the parent's eye. So let us 
look to and be steadied by the eye of Christ ! and go 
forward adding one quality of character to another, and 
rising evermore on the stepping-stone of some van- 
quished sin. Even if we fail occasionally let us not be 
discouraged, for he who slips on the steep mountain 
side is still higher far than the man who is sitting sloth- 
ful in the valley beneath. Excelsior, then, excelsior ! for 
whoso follows this ambition falls into no icy crevasse, 
there to lie " lifeless but beautiful " — rather he ascends 
with safe and steady step until he stands before the 
throne of the Eternal. 

But I may not conclude without one last allusion to 
the noble resolution of our beloved apostle, " this one 
thing I do." Throughout his Christian life he had 
but one personal aim. He unified himself on that. 
Let us imitate his example, and seek as the great ob- 
ject of our lives the mark of the high calling of God 
in Christ. There will be no excellence of holiness 
attained by us without this concentration of pur- 
pose and energy. We may learn a lesson here from 
those who have become great in other pursuits. 
Look at that resolute student, as beside the midnight 
lamp he sits elaborating some compact and closely- 
welded argument. Follow him as he goes at morning 
dawn and takes his place beside the foaming cataract, 
or walks out upon the shore. Hear him raise his voice 
above the roar of the waterfall, or the boom of the 
breakers, and declaim to the surrounding rocks. Mark 
how he fills his mouth with pebbles that he may over- 
10 



218 APPREHENDED THAT I MAY APPREHEND. 

come his stuttering nervousness. You think, perhaps, 
that he is some crazy fool, but wait a while. See him 
on the Bema of the great popular assembly. Behold 
how with that mighty voice, masterly argument, and 
resistless oratory "he shakes the arsenal, and ful- 
mines over Greece to Macedon and Artaxerxes' throne," 
and then you must acknowledge that Demosthenes 
was wise in his generation. Like him, therefore, give 
yourselves continuously to this one grand aim, nobler 
by far than that of any orator or poet. Live for one 
thing, that you may apprehend that for which you have 
been apprehended of Christ. 

But you say, " I cannot be always praying or read- 
ing the Scriptures or thinking about religious ser^, 
vices." No ; I answer. But these are not the things 
to which I have been inciting you. I have been try- 
ing to fire you with enthusiasm for the attainment of 
Christian character, and that you may be always striv- 
ing after ; for every action you perform, every word 
you speak, every thought you think, you are either 
manifesting or making character, and you must do 
that either after Christ's principle, or after that of the 
world. Which then shall it be ? Are you also going 
to make " the great refusal ? " Surely no ! Up, then, 
and begin the work. Begin it now, at the cross of 
Christ, by receiving the forgiveness of your sins 
through him, and then go on, slaying by the power 
of his Spirit one evil principle within you after an- 
other, overcoming one temptation after another, add- 
ing to your faith courage, and to your courage knowl- 
edge, and so up and up the golden ladder which Peter 
has described, until you attain to love. Then you shall 
be near the summit, from which you will catch your 
first glimpse of the sapphire throne, for love is perfec- 
tion, and perfect love is the perfection of perfection, 



THE ELEMENT OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS 
IN CHARACTER 

Exodus xxxiv. 29. — "Moses wist not that the skin of his face shone 
while he talked with him." 

Judges xvi. 20. — "Samson wist not that the Lord was departed 
from him." 

In bringing these two passages thus into conjunction, 
I have no intention of drawing a formal contrast between 
two men so different in almost every respect from each 
other as were Moses and Samson. Neither do I mean 
to treat of the fact suggested by the mere reading of 
the words, that beauty and strength come to a man 
through fellowship with God. My purpose rather is 
to fix your attention for a time on the one quality of 
unconsciousness which is predicated of both of these 
men at an important crisis in the history of each. 
There was about each of them something of which, at 
the moment to which the several narratives refer, he 
was not aware. Now, although in both cases that some- 
thing was physical, it was in both also the effect on the 
body of an antecedent spiritual cause. I do not think, 
therefore, that I shall be guilty of making an unwar- 
rantable use of Scripture, if I employ these verses and 
the biographies with which they are connected to 
illustrate some important principles bearing on the 
growth of the soul, whether it be in good or evil. 

My theme, then, is the element of unconsciousness 
in character, and it is my earnest prayer that God 
may enable me so to treat it that my words may be 
full of stimulus to those who are steadily aiming after 

219 



220 THE ELEMENT OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS IN CHARACTER. 

holiness, and of warning to those who are giving them- 

j. selves up to the pleasures of sin. 

i 

I. Let us note, in the first place, that this quality of 
unconsciousness is invariably connected with a pecu- 
liar antecedent history. The facts stated regarding 
Moses and Samson do not stand out in isolation in 
their biographies. They are in immediate relation to 
the preceding incidents in their careers. Moses, after 
forty years' fellowship with God in the desert, had 
been called, while he was keeping his flocks, to the 
leadership of the Hebrews, and in that position he had 
been forty days with Jehovah on the mount, so that his 
face shone with a radiance which was perhaps as much 
an emanation from within as it was a reflection of that 
which had fallen upon him from without. In any 
case, he had grown so accustomed to the brightness 
that he had ceased to be conscious of its presence. 
Samson, again, had been for a considerable time under 
the influence of Delilah, and, in the deceitfulness of 
her embrace, he had yielded to her the secret of his 
strength. While he slept, she stole it from him, and 
he knew it not. 

Now all this corresponds to the effect upon human 
character of the law of habit. We are so constituted 
that we acquire a facility in doing that which we have 
been accustomed to do, so that at length it is done by 
us without any consciousness of effort, and indeed 
often without any distinct consciousness of an act of 
will to do it. How arduous, for example, the process 
of learning to read ! Each letter has to be recognized 
and remembered, each syllable has to be separately 
regarded, each word has to be individually marked off 
and defined ; yet, when we have fully mastered the 
art, we read whole pages without any consciousness 



THE ELEMENT OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS IN CHARACTER. 221 

of doing any of these things, all of which must yet 
have been somehow performed. Or take it in another 
way. One acquires, suppose, a liking for the use 
of profane expletives in his speech, thinking there- 
by to give greater emphasis to his assertions. At 
first he employs them with an effort, and he brings 
each oath out with the breathless haste and impetu- 
ous energy of one who takes a running leap over some 
barrier in his path ; but at length, when the habit is 
fully formed, he ceases to be conscious of his blasphe- 
mies, and they come forth from his blackened lips as 
if they were the most common and most innocent ex- 
pressions. When a man does a thing unconsciously, 
therefore, it may be taken as an indication that he has 
formed the habit of doing it. 

Now this law of habit operates both in the acquire- 
ment of holiness and in the pursuit of sin. In conse- 
quence of the inherent tendency to evil which is in us 
all by nature, indeed, its effect is most commonly seen 
in the matter of iniquity ; but when the soul is regen- 
erated and receives a new nature, the same principle 
comes in to make our growth in grace more easy. 
The new man can form good habits, just as the old 
man formed evil ones, and in proportion as these 
habits gain strength, the consciousness of effort after 
the things which they lead us to do begins to diminish 
in us. Hence as the Christian grows in grace he loses 
more and more that sense of distinct and careful cir- 
cumspection in regard to individual actions with which 
he began his new life. I do not mean, of course, that 
these actions are less noble than before, for they are 
even nobler, but they are so without any special care 
over them on his part. When the child is learning to 
walk he pays particular attention to every single step, 
and cautiously balances himself as he moves along ; 



222 THE ELEMENT OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS IN CHAEACTEE. 

but when lie lias fully mastered the process, he thinks 
no more of the single steps, but only of the places to 
which and the purposes for which he goes. Similarly 
in the progress of the Christian life the soul acquires 
a facility in following Jesus which tends to absorb 
the consciousness of effort in the higher considera- 
tions of general tendency and direction which rise be- 
fore it. Individual actions are less thought of than the 
great engrossing purpose of living to the glory of the 
Lord. 

Hence in the details of daily life the character of 
the believer, as he grows in holiness, shines with a 
radiance of which he is largely unaware. He knows, 
indeed, that his one aim is to press " toward the mark 
for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ 
Jesus;" but that purpose has come so to dominate all 
his actions, that they are performed as it were uncon- 
sciously, or at least they are only thought of by him 
in their bearing on the attainment of that ambition. 
Very many of you, I doubt not, will remember a won- 
derful sermon by Dr. Bushnell on " Unconscious In- 
fluence," * founded on the effect produced on John by 
Peter's prompt entrance into the sepulchre of Jesus, 
as thus recorded, " then went in also that other disci- 
ple." Peter, however, at that moment was not aware 
of any difference between him and John. He was 
thinking only of investigating for himself the marvels 
of the empty tomb. Now in the same way, in the eager 
and habitual effort which the Christian makes to at- 
tain the great goal that is before him, he loses thought 
of all besides, and is not aware of the shining light 
which emanates from his character on those around 
him. He is not conscious of the difference which the 



* In the volume entitled The New Life, 



THE ELEMENT OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS IN CHARACTER. 223 

prosecution of that great object of his ambition has 
made between him and others, and he takes little note 
of the separate stages of his progress toward it. The 
single steps are forgotten, and only when he passes 
now and then a mile-stone on his path does he become 
cognizant of his advancement. 

This does not make him a whit less useful to his 
fellows, but sometimes in moments of depression it 
may produce unnecessary sadness in his own heart. 
He does not feel about certain duties as keenly as he 
once did. There is not the same conscious solicitude 
about little matters as when he set out in his new ca- 
reer. He has not as much anxiety about details as he 
once had, and so he is apt to come to the conclusion 
that " he has left his first love." The real truth, how- 
ever, is that he has come under the influence of the 
great law of habit, and that feeling within him, instead 
of exhaling as a vapor, has become utilized as a motive 
power. When the machinery is standing still, the 
steam makes a great noise as it issues from the safety 
valve ; but when the vapor is turned into the cylinder 
and is used in driving the engine, all that thundering 
sound disappears. It does not follow, however, that 
there is no steam. Nay, it is only going in another 
direction and doing its appropriate work. So when 
feeling or character is conscious of itself, you may be 
sure that it is only blowing off ; but when it is set to 
work, it loses that self-display and sends itself into a 
healthier direction. 

The recollection of these principles would, I think, 
keep many Christians from that morbid depression 
which comes from rigid self-inspection, and would 
reconcile us to the fact which must inevitably follow 
our progress in holiness, namely, that the nearer we 
attain to that excellence, the less we shall be conscious 



224 THE ELEMENT OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS IN CHARACTER. 

of its attainment. The thing has become habitual 
with us. We have less to resist in following it. There 
is more within us that inclines toward it. "We do not 
require to make so much effort after it. It begins, as 
we say, to " go of itself ; " or, if we would give it the 
real explanation, we have received Christ and his 
Spirit into our hearts, and that being the case, the 
details of our character, in large measure, regulate 
themselves in accordance with his principles. 

A remarkable verification of this truth is furnished 
to us by the description which our Lord gives of 
the awards of judgment. He says to those on his 
right hand, " Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit 
the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of 
the world ; " and he adds, " for I was an hungered, 
and ye gave me meat;" but they are taken completely 
by surprise, for they say, " Lord, when saw we thee 
an hungered, and fed thee ? " Now that was no mere 
mock humility on their part ; it was the real truth. 
The thing done by them, of which he made so much, 
was done unconsciously. They "wist not," at the 
moment of their doing it, "that the skin of their 
faces shone." Why? Because it had become a habit 
with them to act after that manner, and from that 
principle, and in course of time they had learned to 
do the thing without thinking of the principle on which 
it was performed. A caviller, indeed, might say that 
it was a farce to reward them for a thing the real value 
of which they did not know when they were doing it ; 
but when you regard that action, and their uncon- 
sciousness of its character while they performed it, as 
the indication of the settled habit of their lives, the 
whole case is altered, and the award is vindicated. 

So far I have been speaking of this element of un- 
consciousness as it manifests itself in the cultivation of 



the element of unconsciousness in character. £25 

holiness ; but alas ! it has another side, for it comes 
in also with fearfully dangerous influence in the con- 
tinued commission of sin. The more one practises 
iniquity, the greater facility he acquires in committing 
it, the stronger becomes the tendency to indulge in it, 
and the weaker ever is his sense of its enormity. 
Thus it happens that the habitual sinner will, at the 
end of a long career of wickedness, commit a crime at 
which the community shudders, while he himself has 
less consciousness of its guilt than he had of that of 
the first petty peccadillo which he perpetrated in his 
boyhood. Men may dwell so long beside the cataract 
that they lose all consciousness of its unceasing thun- 
der ; and as the blacksmith plies his heavy hammer, 
his hand becomes so hardened by his toil that what 
would have frayed his skin when he commenced his 
trade, makes now no perceptible impression. So, by 
the law of habit, the conscience becomes blunted, and 
as one goes on in sin, it takes less and less note of his 
guilt. How sadly and suggestively the prophet of 
Israel puts this thought in these words, quite in the 
line of our texts : " Gray hairs are here and there upon 
him, yet he knoweth it not." As the evil went on, he 
became increasingly unconscious of its existence, until 
at length his strength was "utterly devoured," and 
"he wist not that the Lord had departed from him." 
I have read of an animal — whether it be fabled or real 
I cannot tell — called the vampire bat, which, fasten- 
ing upon the neck of its victim, begins to suck its 
blood, and as it sucks, its soft wings fan and fan the 
unfortunate victim, until it sinks into a slumber from 
which it wakes again never more. Such a vampire is 
sin. The longer it is indulged in the more thoroughly 
does it steep the soul in unconsciousness of its slavery. 
It binds it fast in cords which thicken almost imper- 
10* 



226 THE ELEMENT OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS LN CHAEACTEK. 

ceptibly as they are spun, until that which was at 
first tiny as the spider's most attenuated thread be- 
comes at last like the cable of some mighty ship. 

Beware, therefore, of evil habits. Let them not 
have dominion over you, and to this end resist them 
in the very beginning. Say not that there is no fear 
of you, for see you not that such an expression be- 
trays the beginning in you of that very unconscious- 
ness of which I have been speaking, and which gives 
to habit in an evil direction such an insidious element 
of power. In a manufacturing town in England, some 
years ago, it became necessary to do some repairs at the 
top of one of the tallest smoke-stacks in the principal 
factory, and an expert was engaged for the purpose. 
He flew his kite over it, and fixed his tackle so that 
he could hoist himself up. But when he reached the 
summit, through some accident, the whole tackling 
fell, and there he stood without any means of coming 
down again. Every plan was tried to get a rope to 
him without success. A great crowd collected at the 
base of the chimney, and among these was the wife of 
the unfortunate man. A happy thought struck her, 
in her earnestness for her husband's safety. She knew 
that he wore at the moment stockings which her own 
hands had just knitted. So, at her suggestion, they 
called him to undo the yarn of which they were com- 
posed, and by and by a tiny thread came fluttering 
down on the breeze. "When it reached the earth, they 
tied to it a piece of twine, which he drew up with the 
yarn. To the twine again they tied a thicker string, 
and then to that a cord, and to that again a cable, and 
so he was saved. That was a work of deliverance. 
But there is a similar gradation in the cord of evil 
habit by which a sinner is bound. It is first a brittle 
yarn, then a tiny twine, with which a child might play, 



THE ELEMENT OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS IN CHARACTER. 227 



then a thicker string, and then a cord, and then again 
a cable, and the poor victim round which all this is 
coiled is unconscious of the gradation. Sinner ! will 
you think of that before it be too late, and snap the 
yarn ere yet it has become the cable. 

II. But I advance another step in the prosecution 
of my theme, and remark, in the second place, that this 
quality of unconsciousness marks the culmination of 
character either in good or evil. The highest great- 
ness is that which is unconscious of itself. The very 
forthputting of an effort to be great in any direction 
indicates that we lack that greatness. How true this 
is in art, for example, every one who has had an artist 
among his friends can tell. The greatest achieve- 
ments made by the sculptor or the painter have been 
those in which he has been least conscious of their 
greatness. I do not mean, of course, that the noblest 
artists have not been the most indefatigable workers. 
On the contrary, they have labored with persevering 
effort so long that at last they can produce, almost 
without the consciousness of exertion, something that 
will never be forgotten. The subject has come upon 
them almost as if by inspiration, and without think- 
ing of themselves at all, they have embodied it in the 
marble or on the canvas. So, too, every one who has 
had to address large audiences knows that when he is 
consciously making his greatest efforts, he makes his 
biggest failures, and that he never really achieves the 
success of carrying his hearers with him to convic- 
tion until he has lost all thought either of effort 
or excellence, and become absorbed in his subject. 
In the same way, no musician ever thrills his hearers 
until he has lost all idea of making a great attempt, 
and is, as it were, carried away out of himself by 



228 THE ELEMENT OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS IN CHARACTER. 

the grandeur or sublimity, the pathos or the glad- 
ness of that which he is singing. And never was 
science so truly ennobled as in the person of him who 
compared himself to a little child on the shore, pick- 
ing up here and there a shining pebble, while the 
great ocean of knowledge lay all unexplored before 
him. Similarly in the Christian life, which is the 
grandest of all the arts, we have not yet attained, so 
long as we are conscious of exertion. If I make an 
effort to be humble, then very clearly I have not yet 
reached the perfect humility ; for if I had, that grace 
would sit upon me as unconsciously as do my gar- 
ments. 

You will not imagine, of course, that I speak in this 
way to discourage you from making such exertions. 
On the contrary, it is only through continuing to make 
them that we can reach this culmination of character 
of which I speak. So long as we are conscigus of an 
effort to be something, we are not fully that some- 
thing, therefore we ought to redouble our exertions. 
When a venerable minister was called upon once un- 
expectedly to preach, he delivered extempore a sermon 
of great power. It seemed to come perfectly natural 
to him. There was no appearance of effort ; and one 
hearer, amazed at the character of the discourse, asked, 
How long did it take you to make that sermon ? "For- 
ty years," was the reply. And there was deep philos- 
ophy in the answer, for had " the old man eloquent " 
not given these forty years to diligent study and 
laborious effort, he could not then have preached so 
easily. Now, in the same way, our conscious endea- 
vors after the Christian life will, if faithfully prose- 
cuted, lead up to a time when, in some emergency, we 
shall meet it with the most perfect ease, and be hardly 
aware of any exertion. 



THE ELEMENT OE UNCONSCIOUSNESS rN CHARACTER. 229 

Let this thought stimulate us to perseverance in 
our great Christian life-work of building character. 
The longer we labor the less arduous will our labor 
become, until by and by we shall lose the sense of 
labor in the joy and liberty of our happy experience. 
Yet let us take heed, for if there be in us any sense 
of having attained, these congratulations are not for 
us. Nay, if that be our condition, we have need of 
quite different treatment. 

"What a discount you take off the character which 
you give to a man, when, after you have said he is 
this and that and the other thing that is good, you 
add, " but lie knows it." You might as well have taken 
a sponge and rubbed all out that went before. So if 
you know your excellence, you have not reached yet 
the highest nobleness. There remaineth yet the lof- 
tiest and the hardest pinnacle of the mountain to be 
climbed by you, and that is humility. As long as self 
has any consciousness, Christ has not yet filled every 
nook and crevice of your hearts, and you have need to 
learn the lesson which Paul set for the Philippians, 
" Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ 
Jesus : who, being in the form of God, thought it not 
robbery to be equal with God : but made himself of no 
reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, 
and was made in the likeness of men ; and being found 
in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became 
obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." 
When self is thoroughly crucified and dead, and Christ 
liveth fully in us, then we too shall be in the mount 
with God, and the skin of our faces shall shine when 
he talks with us. 

But note again at the other end of the scale that the 
deepest degradation is that which is unconscious of its 
dishonor. Here, too, this " wist not " of my texts is 



230 THE ELEMENT OF "UNCONSCIOUSNESS IN CHARACTER. 

the climax of the course which the individual has 
been prosecuting. When a man has lost his feeling 
of shame, or, worse still, when he is making a glory 
of that which is in reality a disgrace, he has attained, 
shall I say, the perfection of wickedness. You see this 
in the drunkard. He cannot be persuaded to regard 
himself as in any way an aggravated sinner. He re- 
sents all such imputations made upon him. He does 
not see himself with your eyes, and he cannot under- 
stand why those who were once on familiar terms of 
friendship with him turn their backs upon him now 
and refuse to receive him in their homes. They are 
proud, or ungrateful, or treacherous — all the blame is 
laid on them — but he is as good as ever he was. He 
is ignorant of his degradation. " He wots not that 
the Lord has departed from him." So also in the 
cases of the gambler and the impure man. Their quarrel 
is with those who cast them out of society, not at all 
with themselves. They have become too hardened 
even to despise themselves. They do not know to how 
low a depth of depravity they have sunk. Hence, how- 
ever degraded a man may be there is hope of his recov- 
ery if he only knows his condition. That is the handle 
by which yet, through the grace of God, you may raise 
him, and you will succeed in lifting the fallen from 
their defilement only by awakening in them that con- 
sciousness. Their fall has stunned them into insensi- 
bility, and the first thing you have to do with them is to 
restore them to consciousness. Do not think either, you 
that are laboring among the vile and the impure, that 
it is altogether hopeless to bring that about. I have 
seen the guilty woman of the city brought in a moment 
from her giddy frivolity to an agony of tears by the 
question, " Have you no mother ? " I have heard one 
tell that as he stood bareheaded, in the open night, 



THE ELEMENT OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS IN CHARACTER. 231 



leaning against a lamp-post in the street, the convic- 
tion shot into his soul, " God help me ! I am a drunk- 
ard ! " and painful though it was, that was the be- 
ginning of his efforts at reform. It takes a good deal 
sometimes to bring the sinner to this discovery of his 
true condition. Samson did not find it out until he 
was in the hands of the Philistines, and oh! how 
humiliating it must have been to him to be reduced 
to be at once mill-grinder and mirth-grinder to his 
oppressors ! The prodigal did not discover it until he 
had been brought down to the greatest straits and was 
seeking to satisfy his hunger with the husks that the 
swine did eat. But in both these cases this awakening, 
rude and painful as it was, was the greatest blessing 
that could have come, for it led, in both, to a return to 
God. And there are few stories in the sacred Scrip- 
tures which more forcibly illustrate the mercy of the 
Lord than does the last chapter in the life of Samson. 
Yile as he had been, the returning sinner was not cast 
off, and like the angel at the announcement of his 
birth, he went up in the flame of his own sacrifice to 
heaven. Fitly, therefore, may I close this discourse by 
an appeal founded on that incident, to those who may 
have had their eyes opened to the dreadful condition 
to which sin has reduced them. Be thankful, sirs, 
that your awakening has come on this side the grave. 
There is yet time for you to repair to God, in Jesus 
Christ, and he will pardon and restore you. He has 
raised you out of your unconsciousness that you may 
have the opportunity to arise and return to him. See 
that you do not go to sleep again, for if you do you 
may not awake until you are beyond the possibility of 
deliverance. Ah me ! to be conscious of degradation, 
and to know that you can never be restored to your true 
selves ! that is hell, and if you would escape that, go at 



232 THE ELEMENT 0E tmCONSCIOUSNESS tS CHARACTER. 

once to your Father ! At whatever sacrifice, return to 
him, and he will not only receive you to himself, but 
he will give you back to yourselves ; nay, he will raise 
you higher than you had ever thought of, and by the 
indwelling of his Spirit in your heart, he will begin 
heaven for you, even upon the earth. There is no 
need to despair if you will but act with promptitude, 
for is it not written, " If from thence thou shalt seek 
the Lord thy God, thou shalt find him, if thou seek 
him with all thy heart and with all thy soul " ? 



WHOLESOME WORDS. 



1 Timothy vi. 3. — "Wholesome words, even the words of the 
Lord Jesus Christ." 

The text belongs to a series of exhortations given 
by Paul to Timothy for his guidance in the regulation 
of the intercourse between masters and slaves, and in 
the treatment of those teachers who should repudiate 
the principles which the Lord Jesus Christ had laid 
down in his discourses and illustrated by his example. 
In the critical and threatening condition of affairs at 
that time there was danger lest some rash enthusiasts 
should precipitate a bloody and useless strife between 
the bond and free by the way in which they proclaimed 
the liberty of the gospel and enlarged on the equality 
which is involved in Christian brotherhood. There- 
fore Paul enjoined Timothy to insist that those who 
were under the yoke should count their masters wor- 
thy of all honor, and that even where the master was 
a Christian, the believing slave should not despise 
him because he was a brother, but rather do him ser- 
vice because he was faithful and beloved, a partaker 
of the benefit. He knew, however, that some who 
claimed to be teachers would not consent to urge this 
upon their hearers, and therefore he took occasion to 
say that pride was the root of their obstinacy, as it 
was also the cause of their fondness for endless dis- 
cussions about speculations and words which were 
utterly unprofitable to all but the hirelings who made 
their living by indulging in them. This led him to 
give a general warning against covetousness — that evil 

233 



WHOLESOME WORDS. 



passion which has been the bane of so many alike in 
the ministry and in business life ; and after that he 
returned to Timothy and addressed to him that solemn 
charge which must have stirred the soul of the young 
evangelist to its depths, and which cannot be read 
now by any earnest pastor without setting him to 
" great searchings of heart." 

In the phrase which I have taken from the chapter 
over which I have thus hastily glanced, the apostle 
intimates that there was a standard by which the in- 
structions of a teacher were to be tested. There was, 
indeed, at that early date in the history of the Church 
no formulated creed like those with which we are now 
familiar, but there was a definite theology to which all 
preachers were expected to conform. This was com- 
prised in the words of the Lord Jesus Christ, as these 
had been orally communicated by the apostles, and 
have been since collected and preserved in writing by 
the evangelists. It is true, indeed, that these sayings 
are not in the shape of abstract propositions, and are 
as far as possible from being in the form of articles 
of faith ; but yet they hold, as one might say, in solu- 
tion all the doctrines which are distinctive of the 
Christian religion. It is also true that they are not 
so full and apparently systematical in the matter of 
theology as some of the epistles of the apostles are ; 
yet everything that is insisted on in the epistles may 
be found in germ in the gospels ; and there is nothing 
in the former which is not either in harmony with 
or a development of the principles that underlie 
the latter. If any one wishes to see how these as- 
sertions can be made good, let him study three 
works which I put upon a level in point of ability, 
and which in a day when men ignorantly sneer 
at doctrines, are calculated to be pre-eminently use- 



WHOLESOME WOKDS. 



235 



ful ; namely, The Theology of Christ, by Dr. Jos. P. 
Thompson ; The Theology of the New Testament, by 
Yan Oosterzee ; and TJie Progress of Doctrine in the 
New Testament, being the Bampton Lecture for 1864, 
by Eev. T. H. Bernard. The earnest reader of these 
treatises will rise from their perusal with a fuller 
realization than he had before of the comprehensive- 
ness of the Saviour's words, and of the seminal qual- 
ity by which they are distinguished, and he will be 
little disposed to join in the clamor which in some 
quarters is waxing so loud against the proclamation of 
the doctrines which have usually been regarded as 
distinctive of the evangelical system. 

But I have not chosen this text to-day for the purpose 
of distilling the theology of Christ from his words. My 
design rather is, to turn your attention to the meaning 
of the epithet which Paul has here used to describe 
them. He has called them " wholesome." Among us 
that term denotes contributing to health, but here it 
stands as the equivalent of a Greek word which signi- 
fies healthy. The opposite of wholesome in our com- 
mon speech is that which tends to produce disease ; 
but the opposite of the Greek word, of which this is a 
translation, is that which is already unsound or dis- 
eased. The thought of the apostle is, that there is 
nothing morbid or unhealthy about the words of 
Jesus. They have no element in them which indi- 
cates that they came from an unsound or diseased 
spirit. They are the utterances of a pure and abso- 
lutely healthy soul, and therefore they have a char- 
acter unique and distinct. Every mere man is spirit- 
ually diseased, and the taint of the spirit may be seen 
upon his words. But Christ was perfect, and his per- 
fection showed itself in his discourses. Thus there is 
more in the term than a description of the effects pro- 



WHOLESOME WOEDS. 



duced by the words of Jesus. Commonly, indeed, 
that which comes from a healthy mind is wholesome 
for all minds ; just as the writings of an unsound or 
morbid intellect are unwholesome to all readers ; and 
so the interpretation we have given to the word may 
be held as including the idea which we usually asso- 
ciate with wholesomeness ; but the other and more 
comprehensive meaning is too important to be lost 
sight of, and therefore I have sought to put it distinctly 
before you. The words of the Lord are healthy, hav- 
ing nothing of the disproportion of monstrosity, or the 
coloring of disease about them ; and therefore they 
are wholesome, so that all who believe and obey them 
become thereby stronger, nobler, and sounder in all 
the qualities of moral manhood. 

Now let us see how this statement of Paul may be 
verified and illustrated. "We may take first the mat- 
ter of creed, and we shall find when we come to in- 
vestigate, that in this department the words of the 
Lord Jesus were distinguished by two qualities which 
mark them as pre-eminently healthy. The first of 
these is their positive character. The Lord was no 
mere dealer in negations. He did not seek to destroy, 
but rather to build up ; and all his teachings indicate 
that he spoke with the conviction of certainty, and 
with the purpose of establishing others in the truth. 
Dr. Samuel Johnson complained of Priestley, as a phi- 
losopher, that he "unsettled everything and settled 
nothing ; " but no one can read the four gospels with- 
out feeling that in meeting Jesus he has come into 
contact with one who speaks in the most positive man- 
ner. On subjects regarding which the wisest minds of 
antiquity were completely uncertain, he has the fullest 
assurance. Where they guessed, he affirmed ; where 



WHOLESOME WORDS. 



237 



they hoped, he asserted ; where they confessed their 
ignorance, he testified that which he had seen, and 
spoke that which he knew. Where they unsettled, he 
established. 

In a mere man this positiveness might be reckoned 
dogmatism, and the constantly recurring " I say 
unto you" of the Sermon on the Mount might be 
deemed presumption. But when we take a full rounded 
view of the speaker, we find that he is more than man, 
and that by the personal union of Deity to humanity 
he has come to restore to manhood that certitude 
about spiritual things which formed one of its original 
characteristics, but which was dimmed and wellnigh 
destroyed by sin. When we read his discourses re- 
garding God, we lose all sense of uncertainty as to the 
divine existence, and have him set before us as the 
holy and omnipotent one, whose providence extends 
to all events, and whose eye takes in the secret things 
of our hearts as well as the open actions of our 
lives. We may wade through volumes of metaphysics, 
from those of Aristotle to those of Kant, without getting 
any distinct notion of God, but " when we hear Jesus 
say, ' God is a spirit, and they that worship him must 
worship him in spirit and in truth,' we feel that God is 
a personal reality ; and though Christ does not define 
the nature of spirit, yet when he speaks of God as 
thinking, loving, willing — his father and ours — we un- 
derstand him better than the philosophers, though 
he penetrates to the depth of a nature which they had 
vainly sought to define." * He has settled our minds 
upon the subject, not by argument, but by awakening 
in us the God-consciousness which is one of the in- 
stincts of our being, and so bringing us to say, "It 
must be so, for I can rest in that." 

* Thompson's Theology of Christ, p. 12. 



238 



WHOLESOME WORDS. 



In like manner, when lie enforces duty he evokes the 
conscience within us to a recognition of its responsi- 
bility. He recalls to us our sense of obligation, and not 
on any ground of utility or from any calculations of in- 
terest, but simply because " we ought " we are stirred up 
to obey. He does not reason, but he commands, and in 
the enforcement of the divine authority he awakes, while 
at the same time he satisfies, the human conscience, 
so that it is constrained to say, " This must be right." 

So, too, in reference to the future. He does not argue, 
he asserts with the speech of one who knows whereof 
he affirms, and forthwith the natural longing of the 
heart for immortality finds its craving satisfied, and 
settles in the certainty that " dust thou art, to dust 
returnest, was not spoken of the soul." Thus, as giv- 
ing assurance to the mind in regard to such vital mat- 
ters — as bringing the knowledge of heaven down to 
meet and satisfy the yearnings of men's hearts for 
truth upon the earth — the words of the Saviour are 
pre-eminently healthy. They take the fever-tossing 
from the spirit, and give it rest. They strengthen, 
stablish, and settle it. 

Akin to this positive characteristic of the Saviour's 
words concerning creed is the discouragement which 
they give to all indulgence in speculations about 
things which are merely curious, and have no bearing 
upon our character or conduct. Thus, when one of his 
disciples asked, " Are there few that be saved ? " he 
declined to answer the question, and fixed the attention 
of his hearers on the vital and urgent matter of indi- 
vidual duty, saying, " Strive ye to enter in at the strait 
gate." And when Peter wished to know what should 
be the future of John's earthly history, he replied, 
" What is that to thee ? Follow thou me." He sought 
to confine the investigations of his disciples within the 



WHOLESOME WORDS. 



239 



limits of the knowable and the practical ; and Paul 
was simply travelling along the line which the Sav- 
iour had laid down for him, when here he reprobates 
all doting about questions and strifes of words, where- 
of cometh envy, strife, railings, evil surmisings, and 
the like. Everything that is profitless and without 
bearing on life and godliness he brands as unworthy of 
consideration or discussion, and all mere logomachies 
are unsparingly condemned by him. 

Now in these two things you have the symptoms of 
mental and spiritual health. The man who accounts 
nothing certain, never focuses his mind on anything ; 
while he who runs after every sort of speculation, 
scatters his mind over everything. The one never 
gets ready to do anything; the other attempts so 
much that he really accomplishes nothing. But the 
sound thinker holds fast by the great certainties which 
he has verified, and turns them to account by living 
under their influence. He does " one thing " like Paul, 
and spends his life in seeking to apprehend that for 
which he was apprehended of Christ Jesus. His posi- 
tive convictions give him energy and aggressiveness, 
and he is effective in the work of his own sanctifica- 
tion and in his efforts for the good of others just in 
proportion as he holds by the great principles whose 
truth he has learned from Christ, and keeps himself 
from disputing about those things concerning which 
valid conclusions cannot be reached, or if they could, 
they would be of no practical importance. 

Brethren, is it not, precisely, in these two respects 
that the unhealthiness of much of the thinking in our 
own age manifests itself ? On the one hand, we have 
those who repudiate the central truths which Christ 
has taught ; and on the other, we have those who fol- 
low after all manner of curious and utterly useless 



240 



WHOLESOME WORDS. 



speculations. The one will have it that we can know 
nothing of God ; and the other will spend their strength 
in discussions that have as little to do with the ordering 
of our conduct as the debate of the old schoolmen con- 
cerning the number of angels that could dance on the 
point of a needle. And the significant thing about it 
is, that though both claim to be numbered among ad- 
vanced thinkers, they really make no progress. For, 
paradoxical as it may appear, we can go forward in 
theology only as we hold fast by the certainties that 
have already been attained. We advance only by keep- 
ing what we have, and not by parting with any portion 
of that which we have received. Men talk of the bond- 
age of creeds, referring therein to the doctrines which 
have been deduced from the words of Christ. But 
they forget that some measure of definite and settled 
certainty is necessary to the attainment of more truth. 
Who speaks of the bondage of the alphabet ? and yet 
without definiteness in that there could have been no 
literature. Who speaks of the bondage of the multi- 
plication table ? and yet without that there could have 
been no higher arithmetic, no mathematics, and no 
astronomy. I do not say that the ground on which 
the fixedness of these things rests is the same as that 
which underlies our certainty as to the words of Christ ; 
but still they may well enough illustrate the fact that 
the definite is the door-way into progress, and not a 
chain to hold us back from it. It is to advance- 
ment what the iron track of the railroad is to the 
locomotive. It confines, no doubt, but it does so 
only to increase and render safe the advance, and it 
were as absurd to complain that the rail hinders the 
motion of the engine, as it is to affirm that the holding 
of an ascertained creed in regard to central things 
impedes advancement in theology. All that it does is 



WHOLESOME WOEDS. 



241 



to define the line along which the progress is to be 
made, and to insure the safety of those who make it. 
If this were rightly understood among us, there would, 
I am persuaded, be less disposition to quibble over 
the things which have been so long surely believed 
among Christians, while at the same time, the energy 
wasted in vain speculation would be spent more 
profitably in seeking to turn that which is believed to 
account for progress in holiness. One can see, as he 
comes down the Christian centuries, a clear advance 
made by the Church in the understanding of the gospel. 
But it has been made precisely in the way which I have 
indicated, and nothing can be more unhealthy, or will 
be more disappointing, than the plan which so many are 
following to-day, of seeking to advance upon the pres- 
ent by the negation of all that was affirmed in the past. 

But now in the second place, passing from the do- 
main of creed to that of character, we are equally struck 
with the healthiness of the Saviour's words in reference 
to that. For in dealing with that subject he is care- 
ful to put supreme emphasis, not on that which is 
without, but on that which is within. He withdraws 
attention from what a man looks like, or what he has, 
or what he says, to what he is. He distinguishes be- 
tween the head and the heart, and never confounds 
intellectual ability with moral greatness. He does 
not allow reputation to be mistaken for character, and 
he gives his hearers to understand that one may have 
a very good report among his fellows while yet he is 
destitute of that which alone is worthy of the name of 
goodness. He tells them that " the kingdom of God 
is within them," that the heart is the great source of 
good or evil, and that only through that new birth by 
which the heart is changed can each become what 
U 



242 



WHOLESOME WORDS. 



Barnabas was, a " good man, fnll of the Holy Ghost and 
of faith." Thus, jnst as in opposition to the Sadducees 
of his day, he set forth the great central certainties of 
the unseen ; so, in antagonism to the Pharisees of his 
time, he pointed out the superiority of obedience to 
sacrifice, of reverence to ritualism, of character to ap- 
pearance. His Sermon on the Mount is from first to 
last a protest against the externalism of those who 
placed religion in doing, and an earnest enforcement 
of the truth that it consists first in being. Nay, his 
whole discourses in this department are but an expan- 
sion of that beatitude which it will take eternity fully 
to expound, " Blessed are the pure in heart, for they 
shall see God ! " 

Now the healthiness of all this is apparent at a 
glance, for it goes to the root of the matter, and only 
One who was himself whole-hearted could thus have 
prescribed for diseased humanity. But he was not 
content with prescribing, for by securing the Holy 
Spirit for us, he has made it possible for any one of us 
to lay, through faith and obedience, the foundation of 
that character whose innerness he has so remarkably 
and repeatedly dwelt upon. 

Again, in reference to character the healthiness of the 
Saviour's words appears in that he insists, not on as- 
ceticism in any one particular, but on full-rounded holi- 
ness. He does not require the eradication of any one 
principle of our nature, but rather the consecration of 
them all. John the Baptist went into the desert, but 
Jesus came into the Home, to hallow it by lifting it 
up into fellowship with himself, and so making it the 
earthly similitude of heaven. John was a Nazarite in the 
sense of separation, seeking his holiness in isolation ; 
Jesus consecrated common life by carrying his holiness 
into everything about it. And what he did thus with life 



WHOLESOME WORDS. 



243 



as a whole, lie did with human nature itself. Thus 
take the principle of ambition, and though one might 
have thought that he would have sought to uproot 
that, we find that he had respect to our constitution, of 
which that is a part, and sought its consecration rather 
than its eradication, saying, " Whosoever will be chief 
among you, let him be your servant : even as the Son 
of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minis- 
ter, and to give his life a ransom for many." Now, 
here again we are warned against some of the preva- 
lent errors of our time, which spring from the morbid- 
ness of their votaries, for ritualism and asceticism 
have still their adherents among us, and they are 
both, as we see, inconsistent with the words of the 
Lord Jesus. Holiness does not consist either in doing 
certain things, or in refraining from doing certain other 
things, but in the rightness of the heart with God, and 
in the consecration of the life as such to him ; not in 
the performance of a certain round of religious duties, 
or in the profession of adherence to some visible 
church, or in the doing of deeds, or in the giving of 
alms, but in the disposition of the soul ; not in with- 
drawing from the world, but in the preservation of 
that inner consecration which will keep us from con- 
forming to it, even when we are moving in it ; not 
in the denial or eradication of any natural principle 
within us, but in the elimination of self from it by 
our dedication of it to God and the service of human- 
ity ; not in the " falsehood of extremes," but in the 
true health of that all-rounded manliness which through 
its interpenetration by the Holy Ghost is also the 
highest godliness, does holiness consist. And if you 
want to know how you can gain that, then read 
anew the Saviour's conversation with Nicodemus, 
and seek through faith in the uplifted Christ that 



244 



WHOLESOME WOKDS. 



new birth which is the entrance into the kingdom of 
heaven. 

But looking now, in the third place, to the depart- 
ment of conduct, we have in that another equally strik- 
ing exemplification of the healthiness of the words 
of the Lord Jesus. He was very far from giving any 
countenance to the idea that religion is a thing only 
of sentiment. He insisted, indeed, as we have seen, 
on the importance of faith in the great central doc- 
trines ; and he was equally emphatic in declaring the 
innerness of holiness. But he dwelt on both of these 
only that he might the more effectually reach that 
conduct which one has called "three-fourths of life." 
To such an extent was this the case, that he made the 
life the test of all. You cannot have forgotten these 
solemn sentences : " Ye shall know them by their 
fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of 
thistles ? Even so every good tree bringeth forth good 
fruit ; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit. A 
good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a 
corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. Every tree that 
bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast 
into the fire. Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know 
them. Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, 
shall enter into the kingdom of heaven ; but he that 
doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven." 
Thus, even as the character and quality of the tree are 
looked to by the husbandman, in order that it may 
bring forth fruit, so the attention of the man is di- 
rected to the heart for the sake of the conduct. And 
the Saviour gives no countenance whatever to the 
notion that if a man profess to believe aright, it is of 
no consequence how he lives, any more than he does 
to the opposite error, that if a man lives right, it is 



WHOLESOME WOKDS. 



245 



no matter how he believes. But he directs pre-emi- 
nent attention to the heart, because " with the heart 
man believeth unto righteousness ; " because, that is, 
the heart determines at once the faith and the life. 
Thus there was nothing of the sentimentalist about 
the Lord ; but he was indeed the most practical, be- 
cause he was the most wholesome or healthy of in- 
structors, and it would have been well for many in 
these days who are now suffering the consequences of 
their crimes if they had remembered, in the time of 
their church membership, that men cannot gather 
grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles ; and if they had 
laid to heart the truth that where there are no fruits, 
there can be no life. 

But another illustration of the healthiness of Christ's 
words in regard to conduct may be seen in the ab- 
sence of all minute and specific details. He lays down 
great principles, leaving it to the conscience of the 
individual to make the application of these to the 
incidents and occasions of life as they arise. The 
words of Christ are not like the directions on a finger- 
post at a crossing, or the indicators of the cardinal 
points upon a spire, which are of service only in the 
places where they are set up ; but rather like a pocket 
compass, which, rightly used and understood, will give 
a man his bearings anywhere. Thus, in the matter of 
the regulation of our dealings with our fellow men, 
he says, " Therefore all things whatsoever ye would 
that men should do to you, do ye even so to them." 
He does not tell each one what in given circum- 
stances he must do, but he gives the general law, and 
lets every man find its meaning for each case as it 
emerges. Now the advantage of that is apparent 
at a glance, for it strengthens and develops charac- 
ter in all who seek to apply it to their conduct. It 



246 



WHOLESOME WORDS, 



teaches them to walk alone, and though in learning 
to apply it they may make some mistakes, yet it is 
on the whole better for them to do that in spite of 
their mistakes ; just as it is better for the child to 
learn to walk, even if he should occasionally fall in 
the process. Nothing so educates a man into weak- 
ness and helplessness as to be told in every emer- 
gency precisely what he must do. That makes for 
him a moral " go-cart," outside of which he is not able 
to stand, and the consequence is that he can never be 
depended upon. If the teacher shows the pupil how 
to work each individual sum, he will never make him 
proficient in arithmetic. But he gives him the prin- 
ciple, and lets him work it out in every separate 
example for himself. So none but weaklings in char- 
acter are produced under the system of having spirit- 
ual advisers for the direction — so it is called — of the 
conscience. For the man never thinks of exercising 
his own soul, and goes at length, like a rocket, pre- 
cisely as he is set. But Christ has not thus dealt 
with his disciples. He has withdrawn himself from 
visible contact with them, and allows them, under the 
guidance of the indwelling Spirit, to apply each for 
himself the great principles of love, and justice, and 
self-sacrifice which he has laid down. 

The man who is continually asking himself, as to his 
food, what he shall eat and what he shall drink and 
what he shall avoid, is either a dyspeptic or a valetu- 
dinarian. He is not healthy. And in like manner, he 
who in the domain of morals is continually inquiring of 
somebody, may I do this ? may I go thither ? or must 
I refrain from that ? has never rightly comprehended 
the healthiness of Christ's words, and is far from hav- 
ing attained the strength which they are calculated to 
foster. Here is the great law, " Watch and pray, lest 



WHOLESOME WOBDS. 



247 



ye enter into temptation." And if you would know 
how to interpret that, Paul will help you in these pre- 
cepts : " Whether, therefore, ye eat or drink, or what- 
ever ye do, do all to the glory of God." "He that 
doubteth is condemned if he eat." " If meat make 
my brother to offend, I will eat no flesh while the 
world standeth." The application of these principles 
intelligently and prayerfully to all questions of con- 
duct as they arise, will develop manly moral strength 
within us, and will keep many of us from acting as we 
are doing now. 

Thus have I shown you, as comprehensively as the 
limits of a single discourse would allow, the healthi- 
ness of the Saviour's words in the three departments 
of creed, character, and conduct, and if anything far- 
ther were needed to make good my assertions, it may 
be found in the history of those individuals and com- 
munities who have most heartily received the gospel. 
Wherever any considerable number of persons have 
embraced its principles, they have begun to make ad- 
vancement in everything that is noble, manly, original, 
and sublime, and the places where its moulding power 
has been most markedly manifested, have been those 
which have exerted the greatest influence in the world. 
The gospel has been the seed-plot of our modern 
progress ; and if the history of the past eighteen cen- 
turies has taught one lesson more than another, it is 
that the prosperity of any community — meaning by 
that word material as well as intellectual and moral 
eminence — is in precise proportion to the depth and 
intensity of its faith in the " wholesome words " of the 
Lord Jesus Christ. 

What shall we then say to these things ? If they 
are as I have represented, then surely we ought to 
study these words, that we may know their meaning ; 



248 



WHOLESOME WOEDS. 



to believe them, that we may feel their power, and to 
act them out, that we may exert their influence on 
those with whom we come into contact. To this I 
would incite you this morning. Amid the multitude 
of books which are eagerly soliciting your attention, 
I would recall you most earnestly to these gospels. 
Let them not be overlaid by the ephemeral produc- 
tions of the hour. But w read, mark, learn, and in- 
wardly digest them," that you may be able out of your 
own experience to furnish the right interpretation of 
these sayings : " The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth 
life." " It is the Spirit that quickeneth ; the flesh pro- 
fiteth nothing : the words that I speak unto you, they 
are spirit, and they are life." 



\ 



PKOVIDENCE. 



Genesis 1. 20. — " But as for you, ye thought evil against me ; but 
God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save 
much people alive." 

We cannot but admire the conduct of Joseph in this 
remarkable interview. His brethren, knowing that 
they had given him but little reason to think well of 
them, feared that he would, now that Jacob was dead, 
take means to punish them for their early treachery 
and cruelty, and so they came to him asking forgive- 
ness at his hands, and making to him that very obeis- 
ance the prediction of which had at first provoked 
their enmity. With true affection for them, and 
moved to tears by their entreaties, their noble brother 
at once reassured them, and bade them fear nothing 
from him, while at the same time he speaks of their 
conduct in a manner which shows the pervasive piety 
of his character : " Ye thought evil against me ; but 
God meant it unto good." He had learned to look at 
his whole life in the light of God's Providence, and in 
his resignation to that, he found it easy to forgive 
them. Here, as it seems to me, is the " open secret " 
of that marvellous equanimity which is so character- 
istic of his demeanor, and we can now understand why 
he was neither overwhelmed by the calamities of his 
youthful years, nor made giddy by the greatness to 
which in his latter days he was exalted. At first we 
wonder that the indulged boy, who had been the fa- 
vorite of his father, uttered no word of murmuring 
when he was cast into the pit and sold into foreign 
11* 249 



250 



PROVIDENCE. 



slavery. We are surprised at his firmness before 
temptation, and his patience in the prison cell. We 
marvel at the calm equipoise which he preserved in 
the hour of his sudden elevation to the second posi- 
tion in the Egyptian nation. Neither in his sufferings 
nor in his glory did he betray emotion. But here is 
the solution of the whole matter. He traced God's 
hand in every incident of his history. He accepted 
the lot which God assigned him. And wherever he 
was, he had the unfaltering conviction that " God 
meant it unto good." This was the equalizing and 
tranquillizing element of his being, so that when adver- 
sity befell him he did not sink into despair, and when 
prosperity came to him he was not puffed up with 
pride ; and if we had the same trust in the wise and 
loving arrangements of an all-superintending God, we, 
too, might continue peaceful amid all the changes and 
surprises of our unsettled and fleeting lives. That I 
may lead your spirits and my own to this delightful 
faith, I have selected the Providence of God, as de- 
scribed in these words, for my theme to-day. 

I. By the Providence of God I mean that preserving 
and controlling superintendence which he exercises 
over all the operations of the physical universe, and 
all the actions of moral agents ; or, as the Shorter 
Catechism has succinctly expressed it, " His most holy, 
wise, and powerful preserving and governing all His 
creatures and all their actions." That there is such a 
thing is clearly taught in the Word of God, is matter 
of daily observation, and follows naturally and neces- 
sarily from the very fact of creation. That which 
could be produced alone by the will of the Omnipo- 
tent can be maintained and regulated only by the same 
volition. Hence, unless we are prepared to adopt the 



PKOVIDENCE. 



251 



ancient doctrine of the eternity of things as they are, 
we must accept that of an all-sustaining and all- 
governing Providence, and must agree with Paul when 
he says, " Of him, and to him, and through him are 
all things ; " and again, " By him all things consist." 

Some, however, have imagined that God simply cre- 
ated the universe, either as it is or in the shape of a 
primordial germ, and left it to itself to regulate itself 
or to develop itself. They have thought of God, as Me- 
lanchthon expresses it, * as of a ship-builder, who, when 
he has completed his vessel, launches it and leaves it." 
Or, to put it into more modern phraseology, they say 
that " He has placed the world under the government 
of natural laws." But let us not be imposed upon by 
words. What do they mean by " natural," and what by 
"laws"? So far as we have been able to discover, 
they call that natural which is stated, fixed, and regular 
in its recurrence. But that does not get rid of God ; 
for, as Bishop Butler * has shrewdly said, " That which 
is in this sense natural, as much requires and pre- 
supposes an intelligent agent to render it so, that is, 
to effect it continually, or at stated times, as what is 
called supernatural or miraculous does to effect it for 
once." Neither do we free ourselves from the con- 
stant providential agency of God by speaking learn- 
edly of " laws ; " for that term, as thus employed, does 
not denote forces which act upon material substances 
and compel them to exhibit certain phenomena, but 
simply the observed modes in which forces work. The 
law of gravitation, for example, is not that which 
makes a stone fall to the earth, but it is a generalized 
expression of the fact that, according to human obser- 
vation, stones do fall to the earth in a certain ratio. 



* Analogy , Part I., chap. 1. 



252 



'PROVIDENCE!. 



Laws are thus what Chalmers has called them, " sum- 
mary expressions of general facts," which themselves 
require to be explained, and which presuppose the 
activity of one who has chosen to work in accordance 
with them. They need themselves to be sustained, 
and cannot be held as sustaining anything. They are 
simply the principles, so far as human philosophers 
have as yet discovered them, on which God has 
chosen to regulate his creation. They have in them 
no causative power. That resides only in God, and 
they are the methods in which, according to human 
observation, he has chosen to exert it. That which 
makes a cause a cause — that which is the nexus, bind- 
ing the consequent to its antecedent — is God him- 
self. Hence we cannot contemplate him as at a dis- 
tance from his creation, or as leaving it to itself ; and 
in getting rid of the superstition which, in its igno- 
rance of God's orderly method of operation, conceived 
an eclipse to be a special evidence of his displeasure, 
we must beware of falling into the opposite extreme 
of hiding God from view behind the abstraction of 
law. 

II. Advancing now another step, it will follow from 
the reasoning which we have just concluded that the 
Providence of God is universal, having respect to 
every atom of creation and every incident of life. 
There are some, however, who conceive it to be derog- 
atory to the greatness of God that he should interest 
himself in minute details. They would admit a gen- 
eral superintendence, but deny that it is universal or 
particular. Now, to this there are two obvious answers. 
In the first place, it may be effectively replied, that 
there can be no perfection without the arrangement of 
details. We speak indeed of "mere matters of de- 



PROVIDENCE. 



253 



tail," but that is owing either to our ignorance or 
thoughtlessness, for it is in the correct adjustment 
of these minute particulars that true greatness most 
thoroughly manifests itself. Often among men the 
most comprehensive schemes are ruined for want of 
attention to details, and on the day of battle he is 
the greatest captain who, haying the genius to form a 
grand plan of attack, has also the patience to arrange 
for the particular employment of each detachment of 
troops. In short, greatness everywhere is the result 
of the combination of vastness of design with minute 
adjustment of each smallest part, and in the plan of 
God you have these two in the greatest conceivable 
degree ; for, while the telescope reveals the magnitude 
of his universe, the microscope unfolds the minute- 
ness of his care. But, in the second place, it may 
be affirmed that small things are often the hinges on 
which the most momentous matters turn, and that it 
is therefore impossible to overrule the greater without 
taking cognizance also of the less. The chemist well 
knows that a very small error in one of his ingredients 
will mar some of his finest experiments ; and in the 
great laboratory of the universe it is indispensable 
that each minutest matter should be individually cared 
for. It is the same in human life. The deviation of a 
railway point from its proper position by but the frac- 
tional part of an inch is a very little thing, but it 
determines whether there shall be an alarming col- 
lision or a safe journey. And, in looking back upon 
his history, every thoughtful man can see in it many 
situations in which a comparatively small thing, little 
thought of at the moment, has changed the whole 
color and complexion of his later life* To human 
view, the preservation of the Israelites and Egyptians 
from famine is indeed a great thing, and the manner 



254 



PKOVIDENCE. 



in which it was done by J oseph shows that he had th^ 
mental grasp and energy of a statesman ; but see how 
many little things had to be adjusted before that noble 
work came to his hand. Had his brethren not been 
so far from home as Dothan when he was sent to them 
by his father, they would probably not have thought 
of laying hands upon him ; and if the Ishmaelites had 
not been passing just at the time, there would have 
been neither temptation nor opportunity to sell him 
into slavery. Then his connection with the house of 
Potiphar, his imprisonment at the very time when 
Pharaoh's baker and cup-bearer were put in ward 
for offending their master, his interpretation of their 
dreams, and finally the dreams of Pharaoh, which re- 
called Joseph to the cup-bearer's memory, were all 
links in the chain that led at length to the saving of 
much people alive; and had any one of them — ay, 
even the smallest of them — been wanting, the great 
result would not have been attained. So, again, no 
event in the modern history of England has been so 
fraught with blessing as the landing of William of 
Orange in Torbay, and yet that depended on the sud- 
den veering of the wind from west to east at the very 
moment of crisis. A little sooner or a little later, 
and the whole scheme had failed ; but its occurrence 
when it did carried the new king to success. Nay, 
take any critical event, either in the history of a na- 
tion or the life of an individual, and you will discover 
that it has depended on the coming together and 
co-operation of many smaller things, which, humanly 
speaking, might very easily have been, and indeed 
almost were, different. Hence there can be no watch- 
ful superintendence over those things which are con- 
fessedly important unless there be also a care over 
those which to men seem trivial. The choice, there- 



PKOVIDENCE. 



255 



fore, comes to be between no Providence at all and 
that which is universal, and no man who has intelli- 
gently studied his own history, to say nothing of that 
of his own nation, or of the nations generally, will 
hesitate long over the question which of these he will 
adopt. 

III. Advancing yet another step, we may observe 
that this universal Providence is carried on in har- 
mony with, or rather perhaps I ought to say by means 
of, those modes of operation which we call natural 
laws. It has been persistently taken for granted by 
many that a belief in Providence necessarily implies 
belief in repeated interferences with the regular and 
fixed order of things. But so far as I have been able 
to investigate this subject that assertion is unwar- 
ranted. We know too little both of the nature of God 
and the method of his government to authorize us to 
say that thus it must be, and no otherwise, with him. 
But there are two alternatives, either of which would 
deprive the objection which we are now considering 
of all force. We may, with Dr. Chalmers, affirm that 
those laws of nature, of which so much is said, tell 
us actually nothing whatever concerning God's opera- 
tions, except in so far as these are carried on within 
the range of human observation. Hence there is 
nothing unreasonable in concluding that God exer- 
cises his providential supervision by acting on the 
highest link of the chain in the region beyond our 
observation, while yet there may be no break in the 
uniformity of those sequences which are before our 
eyes. Or we may say, with Dr. McCosh, in his admira- 
ble treatise on Tlie Method of the Divine Government, 
that God has so adjusted the operations of nature, 
that through them he can administer his providential 



256 



PROVIDENCE. 



government. No objection to the doctrine of Provi- 
dence is more popular or has more force in it than that 
which Pope has put in these incisive lines : 

"Think we, like some weak prince, th' Eternal Cause 
Prone for his favorites to reverse his laws ? 
Shall burning Etna, if a sage requires, 
Forget to thunder and recall her fires ? 
On air or sea new motions be imprest, 
O blameless Bethel, to relieve thy breast ? 
When the loose mountain trembles from on high, 
Shall gravitation cease as you go by ? 
Or some old temple, nodding to its fall, 
For Chartres' head reserve the hanging wall ? '' 

Now to this it may be replied that "we expect 
not the Eternal to change his laws, but it is because 
they have been so wisely arranged that they do not 
need to be changed, and have been from the first ad- 
justed so as to accomplish all his purposes. We do 
not expect Etna to recall her fires when a sage is 
near, or the air and ocean to acquire new motions to 
preserve a saint from danger ; for if the sage has been 
contending with laws which he professes to observe, 
or if the saint has been despising what he should 
regard as the ordinances of heaven, it may be the will 
of God that these very things should be the means of 
destroying him. But should these individuals not be 
rushing recklessly against the known laws of heaven, 
or should it be the will of God to preserve them, it 
will be found that provision has been made for their 
escape, and that not through the powers of nature 
disobeying their own laws, but through other powers 
in nature opportunely acting to stop, or turn aside, or 
otherwise modify their operation."* 

* The Method of the Divine Government, Physical and Moral, by 
James McCosh, LL.D. 3d edition, pp. 178 and 179. 



PROVIDENCE. 



257 



If you ask me how is this done, I must frankly answer 
that I cannot explain it, but we have a parallel mys- 
tery in the fact that in the realm of morals God's 
Providence takes cognizance of the actions of free 
agents without infringing on their liberty. Joseph 
here says what many others have felt when, referring 
to his brethren's cruelty, he uses these words, " Ye 
thought evil against me ; but God meant it unto good." 
And though Assyria was employed by Jehovah as 
his instrument in punishing Israel, it is affirmed con- 
cerning him, "howbeit, he meaneth not so, neither 
doth his heart think so, but it is in his heart to 
destroy and cut off nations not a few." But perhaps 
in reference to no incident is this truth asserted in the 
Bible so emphatically as in the case of the crucifixion 
of Christ, for you cannot have forgotten that remarka- 
ble passage in Peter's pentecostal sermon, " Him, 
being delivered by the determinate counsel and fore- 
knowledge of God, ye have taken and by wicked hands 
have crucified and slain." If these words have any 
meaning at all, they assert that all the events con- 
nected with the crucifixion of the Lord were overruled 
by God, and yet that the agents in them were acting 
voluntarily. I attempt not here to explain how the 
Providence of God is so carried on as to be a control- 
ling and governing thing, while yet it does not infringe 
on the moral freedom of man. But that it is so car- 
ried on is plainly taught in the Scriptures and con- 
firmed by experience ; and I am particular in bringing 
out the fact that the actions of men, as well as the 
operations of natural law, are under the control of 
God, because it is in reference to the moral sphere of 
Providence that the faith of most of us is weakest. 
How often, for example, one is tempted to say, when 
a fellow-man has deliberately, or it may be carelessly 



258 



PKOVIDENCE. 



and heartlessly, injured him, " If it had been a visita- 
tion of God I could have borne it ; but that one whom 
I have served and loved and honored should have 
dealt thus with me is beyond endurance." Now of 
course there is an immense difference between what 
God does directly and what he simply permits others 
to do, yet the fact that the actions so permitted by 
him are wrought into his plan of our lives ought 
surely to have some importance in our view, and 
we should seek, like Joseph here, to trace the good- 
ness of his overruling hand, and to forgive those who 
have injured us; for while man proposes God dis- 
poses. We cannot get rid of natural law and man's 
free-will on the one hand, but neither can we get 
rid of God's controlling Providence on the other. 
To give up the one would land us in fatalism, to 
part with the other would be utter atheism. In the 
via media between the two is Christian faith. Let us, 
therefore, hold to both, even though we cannot com- 
prehend how they are in harmony, for, as Isaac Taylor 
has finely said, " This is in fact the great miracle of 
Providence, that no miracles are needed to accom- 
plish its purposes." 

IV. But taking yet another step, we may lay it 
down as a further principle that God's Providence 
is carried on for moral and religious ends. This will 
be at once allowed so far as the sphere of spiritual 
things is concerned. There are some, however, who are 
disposed to question that God's physical providence 
is designed to have any bearing on man's moral char- 
acter. But that this must be the case will be evident 
to any one who thinks on man's complex nature. He 
is possessed of body as well as soul, and through the 
body the soul is in some secret and inscrutable way 



PROVIDENCE. 



259 



affected. Hence physical things may be made subser- 
vient to moral ends. And when we open the Bible we 
find that this is indeed the case. The primal curse 
was, " Thou shalt surely die," and in that physical 
was connected with moral evil. So in God's dealings 
with Israel we find that physical calamity came as the 
punishment of their iniquity. Thus, to take but one 
case out of many, in that wonderful prediction by 
Moses of the history of the Jewish nation we have 
these words, " It shall come to pass, if thou wilt not 
hearken unto the voice of the Lord thy God, to do all 
his commandments and his statutes which I com- 
mand thee this day, that all these curses shall come 
upon thee, and overtake thee. . . . Cursed shall be 
the fruit of thy land, the increase of thy kine and the 
flocks of thy sheep. The Lord shall make the pesti- 
lence cleave to thee, until he have consumed thee from 
off the land, whither thou goest to possess it."* Thus 
the harvest of the fields and the increase of the flocks 
and the health of the people are all connected with the 
character of the nation, and when the threatened evils 
did come, they came in the ordinary course of nature 
and without any miracle. 

But God's Providence is conducted now on the same 
principles as it was then, and we must still expect that 
moral evil will be attended by physical calamity. True, 
indeed, it may be said that it requires the infallibility of 
inspiration to point out with unerring accuracy the par- 
ticular sins which are thus providentially punished, and 
our Lord himself has specially cautioned us against 
rashly concluding that the victims of such an accident as 
the falling of the tower of Siloam were sinners above all 
others because they suffered such things. But in the 



* Deuteronomy, xxviii. 15, 19. 



260 



PKOVIDENCE. 



very moment of his doing that, he used the death of 
these men as a forecast warning and shadow of the evils 
which were to come upon the inhabitants of Jerusa- 
lem unless they repented, and which actually did come 
upon them, without any miracle, as a visitation for 
their accumulated sins. I know that here again it will 
be asked how God can send such evils as a punish- 
ment for iniquity without interfering with the opera- 
tion of natural laws. But again I refuse to be dragged 
into a region that lies beyond our ken. I simply an- 
swer he did it, as this Book makes clear. " In the 
universe either nothing is mysterious, or everything is 
mysterious," and the mystery of the mode must not 
keep us from acknowledging the reality of the fact. 
There is a retributive element in the workings of 
Providence. We see, we cannot but see, that idleness 
is followed by rags, intemperance by disease, dishon- 
esty by suffering or dishonor, and deceit by cruelty. 
One cannot take up a newspaper without having that 
fact sternly confronting him from almost every col- 
umn ; and though the Nemesis may be long in overtaking 
the guilty, sooner or later the wrong-doer is brought 
low and men are constrained to say, "Verily he is 
a God that judge th in the earth." Thus in the uni- 
verse of God the moral and the physical go hand in 
hand, and still the law is vindicated in morals, as in 
the fields of the agriculturist, " "Whatsoever a man 
soweth, that shall he also reap." 

V. But if that be so we are prepared now to put 
the copestone on the pyramid of our discourse, by 
saying that the Providence of God contemplates the 
highest good of those who are on the side of holiness 
and truth. "All things work together for good to 
them who love GocL" "God meant it unto good." 



PROVIDENCE. 



261 



These words, as it seems to me, might fitly be in- 
scribed over the history at once of the individual and 
the race. No doubt it does seem hard that Joseph, 
the father's darling, was driven from home and sold 
into slavery ; but he held fast his integrity through- 
out, and when you see him exalted to Pharaoh's side 
and becoming the agent in saving a whole nation from 
famine, you are reconciled, as he was, to the hardships 
of his early life by the glory and beneficence of his 
later lot. But if we would have a similar experience, 
we must maintain a similar character. If we would 
have Providence on our side, we must take care always 
to keep on the Lord's side. The sinner that defies 
God cannot expect anything but destruction from God. 
He may be sure that sooner or later his sins will find 
him out. But if he turn from his iniquity, and by 
living, loving faith, link himself in union to the Lord 
Jesus, then everything that betides him will in the 
end work out his highest good. The lessons of his 
boyhood, the oppressions of his fellow-men, the wrongs 
inflicted on him by those whom he has trusted, his 
own errors in judgment, yea, with such cases as that of 
Peter in my mind, I will even add his own failures in 
duty, will all be lifted up and utilized ; so that in the 
end he will be a nobler and better and more useful 
man than otherwise he could have been. Thus in a 
wondrous way to the penitent God fulfils the promise, 
"I will restore to you the years that the locust hath 
eaten." He who has erred through strong drink has 
become renowned as the benefactor of the drunkard ; 
and he who has denied his Lord, being converted, has 
strengthened his brethren. 

But if we still reject the Lord, then the Providence 
which might have been our restoration must be our 
destruction. And so again, after the wide circuit of 



262 



PROVIDENCE. 



our discussion this morning, we come back to the 
cross. That is the healing tree which, cast into the 
Marah of our life-history, will sweeten it and make it 
a fountain of refreshment. " All things work together 
for good to them that love God." Observe the condi- 
tion — " to them that love God " — and remember that 
if we would love God, the first indispensable thing is, 
that we accept God's love to us. 

But the subject on which I have been discoursing, 
thus full of warning to the sinner, is fraught with 
comfort, my Christian brethren, to you. In the an- 
cient city of Chester, which is one of the few links 
connecting the world of this nineteenth century with 
the age of the Roman rule in Great Britain, there is 
an old building, which some of you, perhaps, have 
seen, having these words engraved on the lintel of 
the door : " God's Providence is mine inheritance." 
It is said that when the plague last visited the city, 
that was the only house which escaped the visitation, 
and so its inmates sculptured these words upon it as 
a record of their gratitude. I trust that God's provi- 
dence was the heritage of many who died, as really as 
of those who were preserved. But the Christian may 
always adopt that inscription as his own. God's prov- 
idence is his inheritance, and is so as much and as 
really when he is suffering calamity or enduring per- 
secution, as when he is prosperous and honored. 
Friends, if we could but believe that, how much of the 
bitterness would be taken out of our trials ! There 
are many here to-day who need just such consolation 
as the theme of this morning supplies. They are feel- 
ing the pressure of the times ; they have been disap- 
pointed in those whom they had trusted ; they are 
discovering the coldness of that isolation into which 
poverty, and sometimes also the following of consci- 



PROVIDENCE. 



263 



entious convictions, consigns a man. Still, let them, 
Joseph-like, hold fast their integrity, and remember 
" God means it unto good." The ordeal may be se- 
vere, but the issue will be glorious. Hold fast by 
that, and ever, as you are tempted to misjudge the 
character of God's dealings with you, let these words 
of his own be your reassurance, " I know the thoughts 
that I think toward you ; thoughts of peace, and not 
of evil, to give you an expected end." 

As we receive this precious word, shall we not go 
hence this morning in the spirit of Miss "Waring' s 
hymn — 

" Father, I know that all my life 

Is portioned out by thee, 
And the changes that are sure to come 

I do not fear to see ; 
But I ask thee for a present mind 

Intent on pleasing thee ! " 

Get such a mind, and, whatever may be the crosses 
and crooks in your lot, you will find in the end, that 
God meant them all unto good, and you will be con- 
strained to say at last, " I would not have had it other- 
wise.'' 



PROVIDENCE IN THE LIFE OF PAUL. 



Acts xxviii. 14. — And so we went toward Rome. 

These words are connected with a wonderful chapter 
of Providence in the history of Paul, and my aim this 
morning will be to set that clearly before you, with 
such added applications of its lessons to our modern 
life as the Holy Spirit may enable me to make. 

We have here, then, in the first place, the accom- 
plishment of a long-cherished purpose by the apostle. 
Prom an early date in his ministry his heart had been 
set on visiting the imperial city. Three years before 
he actually set foot on the mole at Puteoli, when he 
was writing to the Eomans from Corinth, he could say 
" that he had a great desire these many years to come 
unto them ; " that " oftentimes he had purposed to " 
visit them, and that the longing of his spirit had ex- 
pressed itself in habitual prayer that he might have 
" a prosperous journey unto them ; " and when it 
seemed as if the prospect of attaining his wish was 
becoming clearer, he spoke of his " now, at length" 
carrying out his design. 

Why was it, we naturally ask, that Paul was so 
eager to come to Eome ? To many the metropolis 
was merely the seat of government, and they crowd- 
ed to it for promotion in office, and increase in 
emolument. Their object was, by bribery, by flat- 
tery, by intrigue, by cabal, to gain some lucrative 

264 



PEOYIDENCE IN THE LIFE OF PAUL. 265 

position in the state. Others went to it as the 
readiest place for succeeding in their professions. For 
a lawyer there was no field so inviting as that Forum 
which had echoed with the eloquence of Cicero ; for 
a poet there was no patronage so promising as that of 
the city whose salons had first heard the odes of Hor- 
ace, and the eclogues of Yirgil ; for a teacher no place 
offered higher inducements than that which at this 
very time numbered Seneca among its philosophers, 
and which sought to train its citizens for the govern- 
ment of the nations. The artist found his most liberal 
purchasers among its wealthy inhabitants; and the 
lover of fashion resorted to it as the centre of all 
social attraction, while the man of pleasure found in it 
the very paradise of luxurious indulgence. Some there 
were also, like the runaway Onesimus, who saw their 
safest hiding-place from the officers of justice in its 
secret recesses. These all, however, were selfish in 
their motives. They went to Kome simply and only 
for their own advantage or enjoyment. Others, again, 
were there against their wills, detained as hostages 
for the good behavior of their friends, or held as the 
spoils of war, in a captivity that was both humiliating 
and oppressive. "While some went to its streets to 
gratify their curiosity, by looking at its famous build- 
ings, and scanning the faces of its most prominent 
men. 

But Paul was not going for any of these reasons. 
His ambition was to comfort and strengthen the little 
company of believers in Christ who had established 
themselves in the city, and through them and with 
them to work upon that great centre of influence, so 
that from it at length might radiate in every direction 
the word of life. He recognized in Kome the great 
heart of the world, and he was eager to take that for 
12 



266 PEOVIDENCE IN THE LIFE OF PAUL. 

Christ. He knew that from the golden mile-stone in 
its Forum, highways ran in all directions to the ut- 
most borders of the empire. He was aware that the 
statesmen in its senate were the men who, in the course 
of years, would be sent out as proconsuls and praetors 
to guide the affairs of the most distant provinces. He 
had seen such officials when he was a boy at Tarsus, 
and he had met the soldiers of one of the Italian 
legions when he was a student at J erusalem. At Rome, 
therefore, he would be in direct communication with 
those who moulded the destinies of the world. If I 
may adopt a metaphor from the most recent triumph 
of science, he would at Rome place himself in tele- 
phonic connection with the farthest dependances of 
the empire, and his words would be carried ultimately 
to Parthia on the east and Britain on the west. So he 
desired with all his heart to have an opportunity of 
preaching the Gospel there. He sought nothing for 
himself, but he was eager to take the entire world for 
Christ ; and as the nearest way to that, he wished to 
establish himself in the metropolis. 

Nor can we fail to see that all this was in accord- 
ance with the plan which, from the very commence- 
ment of his labors, he had deliberately followed. He 
did not waste his strength on places of small import- 
ance. Not that he considered one soul as in itself of 
more value in the sight of God than another. The 
man who wrought so earnestly for the conversion of a 
slave who had defrauded his master never can be con- 
victed of anything like that. But, in the economy of 
work, he deemed it best to give himself to those fields 
which would most speedily reward his labors, and 
from which the truth which he proclaimed would com- 
mand the widest areas. He had but one life to spend 
for his Master, and he sought to make the most of 



PROVIDENCE IN THE LIFE OF PAUL. 



267 



that by placing himself in those localities in which he 
could meet men from the remotest points, and from 
which the currents of commerce and of travel would 
carry his doctrines out to the limits of imperial civili- 
zation. Therefore we find him at Antioch, at Ephesus, 
at Thessalonica, and at Corinth; and therefore also 
he desired to preach the gospel to them who were 
at Eome. 

That we are not wrong in thus interpreting his mo- 
tives is evident from his words in that letter from 
which we have already quoted ; for thus he speaks of 
himself : "I am a debtor both to the Greeks and to 
the barbarians, both to the wise and to the unwise." 
He acknowledged that he had received the gospel in 
trust for his fellow-men, and, that he might redeem 
that obligation in the most effectual manner, he wished 
to plant himself at that great centre to which men of 
every country and clime were constantly repairing, and 
from which statesmen and soldiers, scholars and mer- 
chants, ransomed princes and liberated slaves, were 
continually returning to the lands with which they 
were connected. What Jerusalem was to Palestine, 
during the passover week, that Kome was to all the 
world, throughout the year ; and just as to-day, stand- 
ing in the office of the Western Union, one may send 
telegraphic messages east and west and north and 
south, girdling the globe within a few hours, so in the 
imperial city, one might send his influence, not so 
rapidly, but just as really, throughout the entire do- 
main over which the Eoman standards waved. 

It might be thought, indeed, that no one but a mad- 
man could have imagined that his single influence 
could be felt within a city of such dimensions as Eome, 
not to speak at all of the empire of which it was the 
capital, What was Paul in such a place ? To outward 



268 PKOVEDENCE IN THE LIFE OF PAUL. 

seeming, it was very much as if a solitary Chinaman 
should take up his abode in this city in the hope of 
converting America and the world to the religion of 
Confucius. But the apostle had proved the power of 
the gospel in other places, and it was not because he 
trusted in himself, but because he had confidence in 
the truth about Christ, and in the God who had com- 
missioned him to preach it, that he desired to bring it 
face to face with the most potent forces which the 
world had ever seen. And now at length his wish is 
about to be gratified. The one ambition of his life is 
soon to be gained. And who may attempt to describe 
his emotions in the prospect ? Only they who have 
labored anxiously for years on some benevolent enter- 
prise, and who have been beat back and repressed by 
adversaries from without, and weighed down by the 
burden of hope deferred from within, but still have 
held on, until at length they are on the very eve of 
victory, can understand with what a thrill of thank- 
fulness the apostle stepped from the deck of the Alex- 
andrian corn ship on to the pier of Puteoli, and felt 
that at last his feet had touched the shore of Italy. 

Now, leaving out of view the lesson which Paul's 
plan of labor furnishes to missionaries and evan- 
gelists, bidding them as it does devote themselves 
to the great cities, and leave the converts in them 
to attend to the wants of the surrounding districts, 
what a comfort is there in all this to those among 
us who are eagerly yearning to reach some place 
of pre-eminent usefulness in the world ! I may not 
say, indeed, that every ambition which we cherish 
is as sure to be attained by us as this absorbing desire 
of Paul's heart was at length realized by him. God 
has nowhere promised us anything of that kind, and if 
we are solicitous for our own honor or our own advan- 



PKOVIDENCE IN THE LIEE OF PAUL. 



269 



tage, we shall be very likely disappointed. But if our 
consuming longing is for usefulness, and if, like the 
apostle, we do not allow the hope of doing great 
things in the future to keep us from doing what is 
lying at our hands in the present, I think we may 
cherish the assurance that in the end God will give us 
our heart's desire. 

In this matter of usefulness the Lord has encouraged 
us both to expect great things and to attempt great 
things. He has shown us the little grain of mustard 
seed springing up into a tree, on whose branches the 
fowls of the air may build their nests. He has let us 
see the leaven hid in the meal, working its way out 
until the mass is leavened. And by his own miracle on 
the mountain side he has prompted us to bring to him 
our small loaves and little fishes, that he may multiply 
them to the feeding of thousands. It may be long, in- 
deed, before we reach the point at which we aim. 
Years may intervene between the formation of our 
purpose and its accomplishment, but let us not lose 
either heart or hope, " but still bear up and steer right 
onward," and in the end our hearts will be gladdened 
and God's name will be glorified by our success. As I 
muse on this subject, I think of Wilberforce and Clark- 
son laboring on till slavery was doomed. I think of 
Carey waiting and working until he set his foot on 
"India's coral strand." I think of the noble Hender- 
son, toiling on through poverty and discouragement 
for years, until at length he reached Shanghai, and be- 
came the very ideal of a medical missionary. I think 
of John Kitto, the work-house boy, struggling with 
poverty and deafness, until at last he reached the throne 
of his peculiar power, and became the prince of biblical 
illustrators. I think of William Arnot, setting out for 
the pulpit, from the garden in which he labored as a 



870 



I>EOTIDENCE IN THE LM Of !>AtJL. 



journeyman, with but twenty pounds in his pocket, and 
going steadily on until his influence told mightily for 
good, not only in the two greatest cities of Scotland, 
but wherever the English language is vernacular. 

Take heart, then, my brother. He who has put the 
purpose within you, and ripened it until it has become 
a habitual prayer, has given you thereby the proph- 
ecy of success. No matter what may be the Rome on 
which you have set your desire, if it be but to bless 
and benefit your fellows and to honor Christ, be sure 
that for you, too, there will come a day when you will 
be able to sympathize with Paul and Luke when they 
say, " So we went toward Rome." Ye who are seeking 
ardently some needed social or political reform; ye 
who are looking longingly for some sphere wherein you 
can do the most that is in you for your generation, by 
the will of God ; ye who are fighting your way through 
difficulty to the pulpit, that you may know the joy of 
winning souls to Christ ; ye who are working earnestly 
for the establishment of some institution which is to 
bless the poor, or succor the fallen, or help the for- 
lorn — take heart, and in the accomplishment of Paul's 
lifelong purpose behold the assurance of your own 
ultinate success. 

But, in the second place, we have in these words 
something that reminds us that Paul's purpose was 
not attained precisely in the way in which at one 
time he had expected it would be realized. One 
cannot read his letter to the Romans without feel- 
ing that when he wrote its chapters the apostle did 
not dream of entering the imperial city as a pris- 
oner. His purpose then was to visit the metrop- 
olis on his way to Spain ; and his design on leaving 
Corinth was to pass through Macedonia and Achaia, to 



PEOVIEENCE IN THE LIFE Of %kVL £?1 

go to Jerusalem, saying, "After I have been there, I 
must also see Rome." It would seem, therefore, that 
he had then no idea whatever that his movements 
would be controlled from without, or that, when he 
went to the city of the seven hills, he should enter it 
as a prisoner chained to a soldier of the Augustan co- 
hort. But see what lay for him between Corinth and 
Rome. After landing at Cesarea, he went up to Jeru- 
salem, and, being assailed there by a frantic mob, who 
falsely accused him of taking Gentiles into the temple, 
he was rescued from their violence by Claudius Lysias, 
the chief captain of the garrison in the castle of 
Antonia. Thence he was sent by night to Cesarea, in 
order to preserve him from the conspirators, who had 
bound themselves by an oath that they should neither 
eat nor drink till they had killed him. At Cesarea he 
was detained for two long years by Felix, and it was 
only after he had appealed to the emperor, in the 
exercise of his right of citizenship, and to protect 
himself from the injustice of being sent back to Jeru- 
salem, that Festus decided on transferring him to 
Eome. Nay, even after he had set sail for Italy, he 
was shipwrecked on the coast of Malta, and compelled 
to remain three months on that island. Thus one ob- 
stacle appeared to be interposed after another, and 
when he went at last, he went in a situation which, 
humanly speaking, seemed to render it impossible for 
him to do anything very effective for the cause to 
which he had devoted his life. 

Now, many among us could tell of similar things in 
our own histories. We set our hearts on some enter- 
prise of benevolence, or on the attainment of some post 
of usefulness, and we get it ultimately, but it comes to 
us accompanied with something else of which we had 
at first no thought. It comes to us, indeed, but comes 



272 



PKOVIDENCE IN THE LIFE OF PAUL. 



in such a way as, if we were left entirely to ourselves, 
might sink us into despair. We build our city, but we 
lay its foundation and set up its gates amid such 
afflictions as effectually keep us from pride and vain- 
glory. Take in illustration here such a history of, I 
might almost say romance, certainly of self-sacrifice as 
that of William Tyndale. He has determined, if God 
spare his life, to translate the Scriptures into the ver- 
nacular tongue, so that at length the plough-boy may 
know more about them than the priest, and he sets out 
with high hope to begin his enterprise. He makes ap- 
plication to the Bishop of London, but no help comes 
from that quarter, and very soon he discovers that 
there is no room in all England to translate the Word 
of God. So he repairs to Hamburg, and from Ham- 
burg to Cologne, and from Cologne to Worms, and 
from Worms to Antwerp, and from Antwerp he is 
taken as a prisoner to the Castle of Yilvorde, where at 
length he was executed as a martyr to the faith for 
whose diffusion he had labored thus in journeyings and 
in perils. He attained his object, for the Bible which 
to-day we read bears in its stately rhythm and antique 
cadence the stamp of William Tyndale more than that 
of any other translator. He attained his object — but he 
got martyrdom along with it. So it has been with many 
others. So, in our measure, it has been with us, for 
which of us cannot say that, when his soul's desire has 
been granted to him, it has been in a way that he little 
thought of when it first took shape within his heart? 
The usefulness we sought has come, but it has in- 
volved, it may be, the sacrifice of home and country, 
and all the sweet fellowship of relatives dear to us as 
our own souls. The enterprise we planned has been 
at length carried through, but it has cost us hard- 
ships almost as great as those through which Paul was 



PROVIDENCE IN THE LIFE OF PAUE. 



273 



brought, and humiliation almost as bitter as the im- 
prisonment to which he was subjected. 

Now, we naturally ask why it is that the accomplish- 
ment of our purposes is thus attended with such pain- 
ful accompaniments ? Why is our success won through 
such conflicts, and why, when it comes, does it bring 
something else with it, on which we had not calcu- 
lated? The answer is obvious. It lies, indeed, on 
the very surface of this history. It is to keep us all 
through our efforts at the feet of Jesus, and to impel 
us, from first to last, to depend entirely upon him. 
Had the apostle gained his object too easily, he might 
have been tempted to forget that it is " not by might, 
nor by power," but by God's spirit, that all true suc- 
cess in his cause is to be won. Had he entered Rome 
in other circumstances, heralded with trumpets and 
surrounded by troops of influential friends, he might 
have been inclined to trust in them rather than in 
God ; and so, for the very purpose of preserving the 
real source of his power — namely, his faith in God — . 
he was put into a position in which it was well nigh 
impossible for him to have faith in any one else. 

To this consideration, also, must be added the fact 
that all through his difficulties and trials God had been 
near him, and that at each special crisis in his conflict 
the Lord had shown him special favor. We cannot 
forget how he was strengthened by the vision in Jeru- 
salem and by the reassuring words of the angel in the 
ship. So that while, on the one hand, he was kept from 
self-confidence by his imprisonment, on the other he 
was encouraged to still stronger confidence in his Mas- 
ter by these tokens of his favor. 

Now, it is quite similar with ourselves. In order 
that we may be able fully to use our long-coveted 
opportunity when it comes, God gives it to us in such 
12* 



274 



PROVIDENCE IN THE LIFE OF PAUL. 



a way as to humble ourselves in our own estimation, 
and at the same time to increase our trust in his wis- 
dom, love, and care. You see, then, the practical 
outcome of all this. If we are striving after some 
sphere in which we desire to do special service for the 
Lord, let us not be discouraged by difficulties. These 
are there to be surmounted, and they can be sur- 
mounted only by earnest prayer to God and constant 
devotion to his glory. Self is ever our greatest hin- 
drance to usefulness, and these trials, rightly improved, 
will empty us of ourselves, while the constant experi- 
ence of God's grace will fill us with that trust in him 
which is the great element of spiritual power. You 
know how true all this is in our prosecution of holi- 
ness, and how God answers our prayer for that very 
often " by terrible things in righteousness," so that we 
can quite understand John Newton when, after he had 
asked the Lord that he might grow in grace, he thus 
describes the way in which the blessing came : 

"with his own hand he seemed 
Intent to aggravate my woe, 
Crossed all the fair designs I schemed, 
Blasted my gourds, and laid me low." 

But the same is true, also, in the case of usefulness. 
It is through these things that God fits us for doing 
most effectual service, when we come to our proper 
spheres, and so far from murmuring over them, we 
should take them just as the student takes the hard- 
ships of his curriculum, on the way to his profession. 
We should seek to make the most of them for after 
efficiency. Moses was a far better leader after his long 
sojourn in the wilderness than he would have been if 
he had never left Egypt till the night of the Exodus, 
and Paul was all the better fitted for writing the Epis- 



PBOVIDENCE IN THE LIFE OF PAUL. 275 



ties of the imprisonment by the trials through which 
he had to pass before he could enter the imperial city. 
Take your trials, then, you who are longing for your 
desired opportunity, not as discouragements, but as 
preparatives. Carry them to God in prayer, and he 
will transmute them for you into the very instruments 
of your after power. They are, rightly improved, the 
forerunners of success, and not the foes of it. And 
when you come to your sphere, and find yourself, like 
Paul, bound by some chain of hampering limitation, 
do not be cast down. That, also, is a part of the divine 
plan regarding you, and its purpose is to throw you 
back more fully upon his sufficiency. Think not that 
your opportunity is worth nothing because you come 
to it as a prisoner. Do not imagine that you can make 
nothing of it because you are under some sort of re- 
straint. The restraint is itself a part of your oppor- 
tunity, and if you use it rightly, God will make that 
also subservient to your usefulness. It is better to 
enter Kome as a prisoner than not to enter it at all, 
and, if you only set yourself to make the best of your 
circumstances, God will make even your bonds into a 
means of accomplishing that on which your heart is set. 

For now I ask you to observe, in the last place, that, 
while Paul's entrance into Rome was not quite what 
he at one time expected it would be, yet it really 
accomplished all he desired. Hear what he says in 
his letter from the metropolis not two years after this 
very time to his friends at Philippi : "I would ye 
should understand, brethren, that the things which 
happened unto me have fallen out rather unto the fur- 
therance of the gospel; so that my bonds in Christ 
are manifest in all the palace [rather among the prae- 
torian guard], and in all other places, and many of the 



276 



PKOVIDENCE IN THE LIFE OP PAUL. 



brethren in the Lord, waxing confident by my bonds, 
are much more bold to speak the word without fear." 
, So you see that, though he might be disappointed be- 
cause he entered the city as a prisoner, he yet had ful- 
filled to him the presage of his heart as expressed in 
his letter to the Komans: "I am sure that, when I 
come unto you, I shall come in the fulness of the bless- 
ing of the gospel of Christ." 

The Jews, indeed, as we see from the concluding par- 
agraph of Luke's history, would not receive the truth at 
his lips ; but he found a rich harvest among the Gentiles, 
and especially among the soldiers with whom he was 
brought so constantly into contact. He had not the 
great opportunity which he enjoyed at Athens, where 
he met the philosophers on Mars Hill. He had not 
even the advantage which was given him at Ephesus, 
where he was permitted to dispute daily in the school 
of Tyrannus. No public hall was opened for his con- 
venience. No huge hippodrome was converted into a 
tabernacle that crowds might have the pleasure of lis- 
tening to his words. 

But, because he could not do these things, Paul did 
not commit the mistake of doing nothing. He used 
his opportunity, such as it was, to the full, and the re- 
sult was a widening of his influence, so that it touched 
the limits of the empire, and has come down through 
all the centuries to this hour. He knew that the men of 
the Legion, from which came his keepers, might any 
day receive orders which would send them away to Par- 
thia, or Germany, or even to Britain, and the thought 
seized him that he might use them as missionaries to 
carry the gospel wherever they went. So, as one by 
one they came, to be chained to him for six hours at 
a time, and as some of them came thus many times 
over, he spoke to them that "new story" of Jesus 



PROVIDENCE IN THE LIEE OE PAUL. 277 

and his love, which has lost none of its attractions 
to us, now that it has become "the old, old story," 
and which then must have fallen with amazing power 
into their hearts. They heard, they spoke of it to each 
other and to their comrades, they believed, they told it 
to their officers, and soon there were saints in Caesar's 
household, under the very roof of the inhuman Nero. 

Nor must we forget that it was during these two 
years of imprisonment that our apostle dictated to 
his amanuensis those letters to the Philippians, Co- 
lossians, Ephesians, and Philemon, which have been 
such potent influences in the Christian Church from 
that time until the present. Talk of it as a privation 
that Paul could not address a multitude at once in 
Rome, in some one of the spacious places, what tem- 
ple, what hippodrome, what forum, even, could con- 
tain the myriads to whom Paul has preached in these 
noble letters ? And who may attempt to reckon up the 
millions who will yet read them in future ages, when 
the discourses of to-day, which are spoken of as so 
powerful, shall have passed into oblivion? Yes, it is 
true, prisoner as he was, Paul " went to Rome in the 
fulness of the blessing of the gospel of Christ." 

Oh, brethren, what a lesson of instruction and en- 
couragement there is in all this for you and me ! 
God is answering our prayers most, full often, when 
we think that he is blighting our fairest prospects, 
and if we will but make the most of the sphere which 
is within the limits of our chain, we may find at last 
that our influence for good has gone round the globe 
with blessing. The minister is chained to his pulpit, 
and when he reads a story like this of Paul, or like 
that of Luther, and sees how one man has been able 
ultimately to win an empire, or to revolutionize half a 
continent for Christ, he is apt to say, "Alas! I am but 



27& PROVIDENCE IN THE LDFE Oft PAT1L. 

a poor prisoner here, it is little of that sort I can do 
for the Master ;" but there are in his congregation, per- 
haps almost by accident, a youth who is going to the 
far West to begin life for himself ; a man of business j 
just about to start for some heathen city ; and haply, 
too, a missionary, with heart bowed and burdened 
with the weight of his work in the far East ; and some 
word of his falls into each of their souls, and they go 
forth under the influence of its inspiration, each deter- 
mined to take a new stand for the Lord ; and by and 
by a Young Men's Association springs up in the West- 
ern city, and a demand for Bibles comes from the 
heathen centre, and tidings of a revival of religion are 
wafted home from the mission station in the Orient ; 
and where now is the imprisonment ? of how little con- 
sequence is now the chain ? We do not know, and it 
is well for us that we do not know, how far reaching 
are our words. If we knew always, pride would soon 
take the place of humility, and that would unfit us for 
our work. So God keeps us down to keep us useful, 
and turns our chain into an electric cable, along which 
he sends through us messages of stimulus and encour- 
agement, that pass beneath and beyond the seas. Let 
no one, therefore, undervalue his position, but use it, 
bonds and all, for Christ, and so our meditation on this 
rich chapter of Providence this morning will not be 
wholly in vain. 

You know the touching lyric of Longfellow which 
he has called " The Arrow and the Song." It is so 
familiar that it looks like an affectation to quote it, 
but I must indulge myself once more by repeating its 
sweet lines : 

" I shot an arrow in the air ; 
It fell to earth, I knew not where ; 
For so swiftly it flew, the sight 
Could not follow it in its flight. 



PROVIDENCE IN THE LIFE OF PAUL. 279 



" 1 breathed a song into the air ; 
It fell to earth, I knew not where ; 
For who has sight so keen and strong 
That it can follow the flight of song ? 

"Long, long afterward, in an oak 
I found the arrow, still unbroke ; 
And the song, from beginning to end, 
I found again in the heart of a friend." 

That is exquisite. But you observe that both the 
arrow and the song were found just as they had been 
sent out. The poet has not told, and no poet can 
fully tell of the impulses that are given, the changes 
that are wrought, and the work of self-sacrifice and 
devotion that is suggested, by a fitting word dropped 
at the right moment into a human soul ; and among 
the many pleasant surprises that are in store for us in 
the upper world will be the discovery that efforts put 
forth by us, and which we supposed to be so feeble as 
to be well-nigh worthless, have been, under God, the 
germs from which rich harvests of good have resulted 
to multitudes whom we have never seen. Let us, then, 
go back to our homes to-day with new views of our 
condition. Let the struggling among us struggle on, 
with faith and prayer, for we shall either reach Kome 
or something better ; and let those of us who have 
gained our wish, but with an appendix to it that seems 
almost to retract the gift, take heart again, and we 
shall find our very limitation an intensification of our 
power, for our Master never mocks us when he an- 
swers our requests. 



TRANSIENT IMPRESSIONS. 



Hosha. vi. 4. — " Your goodness is as a morning cloud, and as the 
early dew it goeth away." 

In all tropical countries water has become the rec- 
ognized symbol of that which is most valuable, and 
the absence of it is employed, in common speech, as 
an emblem of terrible calamity. The appearance of a 
cloud in any time of drought evokes the highest ex- 
pectation, and its disappearance without emitting the 
scantiest shower causes the bitterest disappointment. 
Now, as the Bible is an Oriental book, written under 
God's inspiration by men who had often witnessed 
these natural phenomena, and felt the emotions which 
they produced, we are not surprised to find in it re- 
peated illustrations drawn from these experiences. 
Thus when Jude would describe in the most expressive 
manner the men whose Christianity was a form and 
nothing else, he calls them " clouds without water," 
and Peter, characterizing the same class, declares that 
they are " wells without water." Thus, also, in the 
verse before us, in view of the fact that Ephraim and 
Judah had often given indications of amendment, 
while a#**r all they continued as bad as ever, Jehovah 
says, "Your goodness is as a morning cloud, and as 
the early dew it goeth away." They had again and 
again given ground to expect that they were just about 
to return to God, but alas ! the cloud Avhich seemed to 
promise an abundance of rain passed away, and left 
only a more oppressive sultriness than before. 

280 



TRANSIENT IMPRESSIONS. 



281 



The theme thus brought before us is the frequently 
transient character of religious impressions. I sup- 
pose that, even among the unconverted in my audience, 
there is not one who has not at some time or other in 
his history been profoundly moved regarding spiritual 
things. The hearing of some especially solemn ser- 
mon, the experience of a narrow escape from sudden 
death, the coming, for the first time, of death into the 
household, the suffering of some severe illness, the 
conversion of some intimate friend and former asso- 
ciate in sin, may have roused him to serious attention 
to the concerns of his soul, and those interested in his 
welfare may have begun to hope that his conversion 
was at hand ; but the decided step was not taken, and 
he is as yet unsaved — nay, perhaps more hardened in 
his unbelief than ever. Now, it is an interesting and 
important question, how this too common disappear- 
ance of such hopeful impressions is to be accounted 
for. I am aware, indeed, that the grand reason is that 
the heart has never been truly reached ; but that is 
itself an effect which has been produced by other 
causes, the investigation of which cannot fail to be 
most profitable, and it is especially to this department 
of inquiry that I would now turn your attention. For 
my present purpose we may classify those causes which 
tend to make religious impressions evanescent under 
three heads : 

I. There are, first, those which are speculative in 
their nature. It has often occurred that when the 
conscience is awakened the soul takes refuge in the 
perplexing difficulties, which revelation leaves un- 
solved, connected with such subjects as these, namely : 
the harmony of prayer with the foreknowledge of 
God, the consistency of special grace with the free 



282 



offer of salvation to every hearer of the gospel, the 
origin of evil, the doctrine of the atonement, the doc- 
trine of election, and the like ; and because no satis- 
factory solution of these is found, the individual is 
content to be as he was before, and his half-formed 
resolutions vanish. 

Now here let it be understood that I do not deny 
the existence of the difficulties. They are such as 
environ every man who thinks, and sometimes the 
more thoughtful the man is, the force of the difficul- 
ties is the more acutely felt. 

Let it be noted, again, that I am not prepared with 
a solution of them which shall be free from objection. 

But there are certain things which must be said as 
exposing the folly of allowing even such difficulties to 
keep us from religious decision. 

Observe, then, in the first place, that the existence 
of difficulties is inseparable from any revelation which 
is short of infinite. All perplexities arise from imper- 
fect knowledge. If we could know everything per- 
fectly, there would be no difficulty, but the only 
intellect which has such knowledge is that of God 
himself. Hence, unless God impart all his own 
knowledge to us, there must be mystery left some- 
where. But it is impossible to compress the infinite 
into the finite, and so it is in the very nature of things 
impossible for God to give a revelation to men which 
shall not contain in it the elements of difficulty. In 
giving the Bible to men, therefore, it was not, if I may 
so express it, a question with God whether there should 
be mystery in it or not ; but all that he had to consider 
was at what limit he should stay, and, as it appears to 
me, that limit has been fixed by what is sufficient to 
regulate man's conduct on earth, and bring him back 
to the favor and fellowship of the Most High. From 



TRANSIENT IMPRESSIONS. 



233 



the very fact that man is a creature, and cannot com- 
prehend the Infinite Creator, there must be mysteries 
left in any communication made by God to him, and 
these mysteries have in them the germs of difficulty, 
if at least we will not accept them as they stand on 
God's word, but insist upon prying into them for a 
solution of our own. 

Further, it must be borne in mind that these diffi- 
culties in revelation are of the very same sort, so far 
at least as they touch our conduct, as those which we 
meet in God's daily providence. What greater incon- 
sistency, for example, is there in praying to God for 
that which he already foreknows, or, if you choose, 
has foreordained, than there is in making a request to 
a fellow-man ? God has as certainly foreknown what 
the result shall be in the one case as he has in the 
other ; but if I do not allow the difficulty in the one 
case to keep me from asking a favor from a fellow-man, 
why should I permit it, in the other, to keep me from 
asking a blessing from the Lord? Then, as to the 
doctrine of election : what is that but the assertion, in 
the kingdom of grace, of that which we call special 
providence in the kingdom of nature? We see one 
child born heir to a fortune, and another the victim of 
the deepest poverty and its attendant evils. When I 
look back upon my own history, I see all along the 
clearest indications that, while I was not conscious 
of it at the time, God was hedging me in toward the 
place in which I now stand ; yet, if I did not allow 
his overruling providence to fetter me in the settle- 
ment of my earthly affairs, why should I allow the 
doctrine of his special grace to be a stumbling-block 
to me in spiritual matters ? I cannot tell precisely 
what light is, yet that does not keep me from tak- 
ing advantage of it ; and so, though I may not be able 



284 



TRANSIENT IMPRESSIONS. 



to comprehend fully the doctrine of the atonement, 
why should I let that prevent me from taking advan- 
tage of the blessings which Christ has secured for me 
by his death ? Thus, if we would but bring our com- 
mon sense to bear upon religious things, as we do on 
the secular matters of our daily lives, we would not 
permit mere speculative difficulties to blind us to the 
best interests of our souls. 

Still, again, we must keep hold of this principle, 
that difficulties in regard to things of which we are in 
doubt ought not to prevent us from performing duties 
that are perfectly plain. Whatever a man may be per- 
plexed about, he knows full well that it is wrong to 
commit sin. There is a conscience within him which 
witnesses to the obligation that underlies the moral 
law. He is constrained to admit at least this much, 
that it is always wrong to do wrong. Let him there- 
fore act out that, and look for further light. Let him 
give up his evil habits, and do those things which he 
knows to be right. Let him give over speculating 
about things of doubtful disputation, and set himself 
to the performance of plain duties. Perhaps there is 
one here this evening whose case just needs this coun- 
sel. My friend, here is a word of promise to you, and 
if you follow its advice, your impressions, otherwise 
evanescent, will stiffen into principles : " If any man 
be willing to do his will, he shall know of the doctrine 
whether it be of God." The sure way to get more 
light is to make the best possible use of the light 
which you already enjoy. Therefore bring up your 
life to the level of your convictions, and by and by 
you will find that your convictions themselves have 
considerably advanced. Do not wait to have mysteries 
solved before you do that which is your present duty, 
and whenever you feel disposed to ask some curious 



TKANSIENT IMPRESSIONS. 



285 



question before yon begin to perform some patent 
duty, think you hear the Saviour saying to you, as to 
Peter, "What is that to thee? follow thou me." 

But some one may say, " In dealing with speculative 
difficulties that tend to banish serious impressions, 
you have confined yourself only to the metaphysical. 
Now my perplexity is of an entirely different kind. 
I am bewildered with the questions which have been 
raised by modern discoveries. I read the pages of 
our physical philosophers. I do not see how their 
contents can be in harmony with the Word of God, 
and I am brought to a stand-still." Now here again 
I do not deny the difficulty ; neither am I prepared 
with a solution that will be in all points satisfactory. 
But I crave leave to set before you a principle which 
may keep you from being guilty of the folly of casting 
aside the gospel because of any such perplexity. It 
is this, that truth already ascertained on its own ap- 
propriate evidence is not the less true because there 
are added to it some important truths in other depart- 
ments of human inquiry. When I build a new wing 
to my dwelling, I do not thereby lose all the ad- 
vantage of my original mansion. Nay, rather I only 
add so much the more to its capacity and accommo- 
dation. Now similarly, when science builds its annex 
to the temple of revelation, it does not thereby de- 
prive us of the venerable fane which we have so long 
enjoyed. We welcome truth from all quarters, for 
truth is near of kin to him who sits upon the eternal 
throne. And though we do not see how" one set of 
truths in one department fits into another set in 
another, that is no reason why we should part with 
either. Take this doctrine of development, of which so 
much is said in these days. Suppose it to be true. I 
do not grant that it is yet established — but suppose it 



286 



TRANSIENT IMPRESSIONS. 



to be true, what then ? Does it prove that the resur- 
rection of Jesus Christ from the dead is not a fact? 
What does it matter to me though my ancestor, mil- 
lions upon millions of ages ago, was an ape ? That was 
a great deal more the affair of my remote progenitor 
than it is mine ! But if Jesus Christ rose again from 
the dead, there is an eternity before me, and it is of 
infinite concern to me now to know what I shall de- 
velop into millions of ages hence. Now that he did 
rise from the dead is about the best-attested fact in 
human history. It is more fully authenticated than 
anything which was announced yesterday in the morn- 
ing papers ; and where is the science that can obb't* 
erate a fact? No theories of men, no discoveries of 
philosophers can destroy a fact. The perception of a 
new planet by some modern astronomer does not blot 
the old ones out of the firmament, and nothing that 
men of science may bring to light can erase the resur- 
rection of Christ from the page of human history. 
The very corner-stone of the inductive philosophy is 
this, that there is no gainsaying a fact. And so what- 
ever additions scientific men may make to our knowl- 
edge, there remains yet undestroyed and indestructi- 
ble this great sign that God has given us, that Jesus 
died and rose again from the dead. Now that fact 
carries the whole gospel with it. Therefore whatever 
perplexities modern physical philosophy may raise, 
there is nothing in them that ought to be allowed for 
one moment to keep us from " seeking those things 
which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right 
hand of God." We stand here upon a Eock that can- 
not be shaken, and with our feet firmly fixed thereon 
we can welcome, without any trepidation, all the treas- 
ures of the most recent discovery. Let this thought, 
my distracted friend, sink deeply into your mind, and 



TRANSIENT IMPRESSIONS. 



287 



then your religious impressions, so far from being 
erased, will be deepened and strengthened by hearing 
what our physical philosophers have to say concerning 
other departments of the one divine administration. 

II. But a second class of causes which operate in 
the way of removing spiritual impressions may be 
styled the practical. Thus some are prevented from 
yielding to the promptings of their better nature and 
the strivings of God's spirit with them, through the 
fear of the opposition which they would have to en- 
counter in so doing. They will be taunted about it by 
their friends, or they will be made the butt of some 
disagreeable practical jokes by their fellow workmen, 
or they will be deprived of some worldly honor or 
emolument to which otherwise they would have risen, 
and so they stifle their convictions and become more 
hardened than before. Now I have no wish to under- 
rate this annoyance, or to taunt those who feel it with 
cowardice. Few things are so hard to bear as ridi- 
cule, and it is then hardest of all to bear when your 
heart is distressed about spiritual concerns, and you 
feel such a restraint upon you as prevents you from 
replying with some smart repartee, as otherwise you 
could and would do. The thought of having this con- 
tinually to face becomes to some sensitive spirits posi- 
tively terrible. But if they would look at the matter 
all round they would speedily see that their terrors 
are immensely exaggerated. It only needs that they 
meet their assailants with firm, unyielding fortitude, 
and very soon their assaults will cease. When Kuth 
determined so nobly to accompany her mother-in-law, 
it is written of Naomi that " when she saw she was 
steadfastly minded she left off speaking unto her." 
Now so it will be with those who attack you for your 



288 



TRANSIENT IMPRESSIONS. 



allegiance to Christ. So soon as they understand that 
you have determined unalterably to be his, they will 
let you alone. Nay, they will begin to treat you with 
respect. 

A little more than six years ago, a friend who is 
deeply interested in work for Christ among our sailors 
told me that at the close of a prayer-meeting of which 
he had been the leader, a young seaman, who had 
only a few nights before been converted, came up to 
him, and laying a blank card before him requested 
him to write a few words upon it, because, as he said, 
" You will do it more plainly than I can." " What 
must I write?" said my friend. "Write these words, 
sir: ' I love Jesus, do you?'" After he had written 
them, my friend said, " Now you must tell me what 
you are going to do with the card." He replied, "I 
am going to sea to-morrow, and I am afraid if I do 
not take a stand at once I may begin to be ashamed of 
my religion, and let myself be laughed out of it alto- 
gether. Now as soon as I go on board I shall walk 
straight to my bunk and nail up this card upon it, that 
every one may know that I am a Christian, and may 
give up all hope of making me either ashamed or afraid 
of adhering to the Lord." 

The young sailor was right. A bold front is often 
more than half the battle, and many a general has 
saved himself from being attacked by making what is 
called " a show of force." So let it be with you in the 
carrying out of your religious convictions. Meet your 
assailants, not with retaliation, but with calm fortitude. 
Give them to understand that you have weighed the 
matter thoroughly, and that as you are responsible for 
your own soul you mean to do what you believe to be 
right, no matter what they may say or do. Tell those 
of your own household that you are determined to be 



TRANSIENT IMPRESSIONS. 



289 



as good a son and brother as ever, nay, rather a better 
than before ; but that in this infinitely momentous con- 
cern you know no father but God, and no brother but 
Jesus Christ. Say to your fellow-workmen that you 
intend to be as faithful in your employment, and as 
ready to oblige them as ever, but that you cannot sin 
against God to show your good will to them. Do this 
with the calm earnestness of one who has looked into 
eternity; do it with the holy boldness of one who 
hears his Saviour saying, " My grace is sufficient for 
thee ; my strength is made perfect in weakness." Do 
it with the self-sacrifice of one who has gazed on the 
cross of Christ until the love of the Lord has con- 
strained him, whatever it may cost, to live to him. 
Do it thus, and your adversaries will cease to tor- 
ment you. Nay, haply some even of them may be won 
by your honest courage to put themselves by your 
side. When the vessel is pursued by some suspicious 
craft, the captain runs up to the mast-head the flag of 
our nation, and the would-be assailant steers away in 
another direction, for he knows that whoso fires upon 
that ship outrages the patriotism of the people and 
provokes their power. So when men turn on you, hoist 
your flag, and see in that at once the symbol of your 
decision and the pledge of your protection ; for while 
you are beneath that flag, he who attacks you touches 
the apple of the Saviour's eye. 

But, as another practical cause of the effacement of 
good impressions, I name the influence of evil asso- 
ciates. It has often happened that serious thoughts 
which have been produced by listening to the 
preacher on the Sabbath have been destroyed by 
the allurements of sinful companions on the Monday. 
Many a time in the course of my ministry I have wit- 
nessed that. I have looked with hope upon a youth 
13 



290 



TEANSIENT IMPKESSIONS. 



whom I have seen deeply convinced of sin, and I have 
conversed with him as best I could with the view of 
leading him to Christ. Then the next time I saw him 
he was the centre of a group of those who were mak- 
ing a mock at godliness and running riot in iniquity. 
Yery bitter was the disappointment of my fondest 
anticipations. Now if there be those here who have 
been formerly hindered from this cause, or whose 
present convictions are in danger of being lost in this 
way, then let me say to them with all the earnestness 
and affection of my heart that they should abandon 
at once and forever the society of such associates. If 
you mean impressions to remain, you must act upon 
them at once, for unless you do that, you may harden 
your hearts into utter impenetrability. 

It is a law of our nature that impressions which pro- 
duce no practical result pass away and leave the soul 
less sensitive than it was before they were felt ; while 
if we act upon a conviction we deepen it into perma- 
nence. Thus the benevolence which spends itself in 
tears over the sentimental novel grows thereby only 
weaker and weaker, while that which works itself off 
in active beneficence becomes stronger and stronger. 
In like manner, the impressions of religious truth 
which go no further than making us weep or tremble 
will speedily be effaced, and there will come a time 
when it will be impossible to have them renewed. 
But those which are promptly acted out are deepened 
and stiffened into perpetuity. Now the first thing 
which your convictions call upon you to do is to 
break at once with your evil associates. That for you 
is the crisis of your conversion. That for you is the 
key to the entire position. Over that your whole bat- 
tle for the present has to be fought, and your future 
character and condition depend on your victory 01 



TRANSIENT IMPRESSIONS. 



291 



defeat. It mattered everything with Christian, in the 
immortal allegory, whether he got out of the Slough 
of Despond on the side nearest the City of Destruc- 
tion or on that nearest to the wicket gate. And it 
matters everything with you on which side you come 
out of this conflict. This is the first step which costs 
and conquers ; and if you decide aright here, you have 
fairly turned your faces to the Lord Jesus. 

I have known youths so earnest in this matter that 
they have actually removed to another city or emigrated 
to another land, just that they might break away from 
the entangling alliance of those wicked companions 
who had almost proved their ruin. And if there is no 
other way open for you, then imitate their example. 
In any case, have no fellowship with the unfruitful 
works of darkness. What concord hath Christ with 
Belial? You must make your decision. You must 
either part with them or give up Christ and his salva- 
tion. Which will you forego? Remember that if you 
part with Christ, you are parting with your best friend 
and setting out on the broad road to endless ruin. 
Let me implore you, therefore, not to think of leaving 
him. Nay, rather break away, in God's name and with 
God's help, from the spell of your evil associates, and 
say of the whole race of the ungodly, " My soul, come 
not thou into their secret; unto their assembly, mine 
honor, be not thou united ! " 

Another practical cause which prevents religious 
impressions from issuing in permanent improvement 
is the fettering influence of some pernicious habit. 
Often have I seen a man, Felix-like, trembling under 
the faithful presentation of God's truth concerning 
righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come ; 
yet he went no further, because he never seriously set 
himself to do battle with his besetting sin. He never 



295. 



TRANSIENT IMPRESSIONS. 



seemed to reason thus : " If I persist in this habit my 
religious convictions are belied, and my enjoyment of 
the means of grace will become a curse rather than a 
blessing." Nay, there was no reasoning in the case ; 
but, at the sight of strong drink, or before the allure- 
ments of the temptress, everything else was forgotten, 
and he went back like the dog to his vomit or the sow 
to her wallowing in the mire. Alas ! how many are 
there of this class whose lives are continuous vibra- 
tions between the emotional excitement of the Sab- 
bath and the sinful excesses of the week ! 

Now here again the principle on which I have just 
been insisting comes in with the most solemn warning. 
A feeling is valueless if it do not lead to action. It 
will be of no service to the poor wretch shivering in the 
cold and famishing with hunger, if I say merely," Dear ! 
dear ! what a pity ! " while I do nothing whatever to 
relieve his distress ; and in like manner my admission 
before the preacher and in my conscience that my 
course of life is radically bad, and that I must return 
to God, will be worthless unless I carry that resolu- 
tion through. Nay, every time I feel in that way, un- 
less I act upon my conviction, the emotion will become 
feebler and feebler, until by and by I shall be like 
those who are described by the apostle as " past feel- 
ing." To you, therefore, whose goodness has so often 
proved like the morning cloud, because you have never 
given over your evil habits, I would say, Break these 
fetters now. Over your besetting sin, whether intem- 
perance or sensuality or covetousness, or whatever 
else it may be, the whole battle of your conversion is 
to be fought. This is in your heart very much what 
the famous farm-house was on the field of Waterloo ; 
and on your taking that and holding it for Christ 
hinges your soul's salvation. You are standing at a 



TRANSIENT IMPKESSIONS. 



293 



place where two roads meet, and it behoves you to 
take the one or the other. Take to the right, and 
though the struggle may be tremendous, your con- 
science and your God will approve. Take to the left, 
and though for a time your evil appetite may rejoice 
in its gratification, you will ere long discover that it 
is a bitter thing to forsake the Lord. Arise, there- 
fore, and by the supplicated help of God's Holy Spirit 
break asunder the bonds of your evil habit. Do not 
persuade yourself that you can conquer it by degrees. 
That is a common but a serious mistake. There must 
be a " henceforth " beyond which you will never more 
return to it. Why should not this henceforth be for 
you this moment ? Rise, then, in the might of your 
manhood, and by the help of God in Christ resolve 
that the time past of your life shall suffice to have 
wrought the will of the flesh. Rise, and begin to live 
indeed by living for the Lord, and then the law of 
habit will come in to help you, for the longer you 
practice holiness, the easier it will become. Oh, let 
me beseech you not to leave this house until you have 
registered on high a holy resolve never again to tam- 
per with the temptation before which you have so 
often fallen, and with that sacred vow let this humble 
prayer ascend, " Hold thou up my goings in thy 
paths, that my footsteps slip not." 

III. A third class of causes which operate in the 
way of obliterating religious impressions is connected 
with the conduct of professing Christians. The seri- 
ousness produced by some searching discourse is 
often wiped out by the thoughtless, flippant re- 
marks of a so-called Christian on the way home from 
church. The peculiarities of the preacher are turned 
into ridicule, some unfortunate expression in his ser- 



294 



TRANSIENT IMPRESSIONS. 



mon is twisted into all kinds of ludicrous shapes, the 
dress of this one and that one of the worshippers is 
criticised from every point of view ; but the important 
subject which has been set before the audience is 
utterly ignored, and the anxious one, who was just 
waiting for some kindly hand of help to be held out 
to him, shrinks back into himself and says, " I need 
not trouble myself so much after all ; if life to them 
is a matter of such levity, why may not I be equally 
unconcerned ? " Or again, when some providential 
dispensation has softened the soul, the thoughtless in- 
difference of those calling themselves Christians who 
know its trouble, but pass it by on the other side, may 
often destroy, nay, has often destroyed, all reverence in 
it for the religion of Jesus. While sometimes the unfair 
advantage taken by some prominent church member 
in a business transaction, or the open immorality of 
some naming Pharisee has been enough to cause an 
awakened soul to say, " If that be Christianity, I am 
as well without it ! " 

Now, concerning this I have two remarks to make. 
The first shall be addressed to those who have really 
felt, or who may now feel, their religious convictions 
shaken from this cause. To them I say, religion is 
a personal thing. Every man must give account of 
himself to God, and these inconsistent professors of 
religion shall be answerable for their hypocrisy at the 
bar of his judgment. But their inconsistency will not 
excuse you. If one accused of theft in a human court 
were to say, in apology for his guilt, that " many who 
professed to be honest were no better than he," the 
answer of course would be, " That may all be true, 
but it does not dispose of the charge against you." 
So I do not deny that there may be members of the 
church who, in their daily conduct, are as bad as you 
affirm, but that will not justify you before God. Your 



TBAN8IENT IMPRESSIONS. 



295 



first plain duty is to look to your own salvation, and to 
seek to have your own soul renewed. " Take heed to 
yourselves," therefore, and then, having secured your 
own regeneration, see what you can do to convince these 
others of their guilt, and to bring them to a better life. 

Besides, you know that all Christians are not like 
those whom you condemn. You do not judge of the value 
of a fruit tree from the few worm-eaten or rotten apples 
which are lying beneath it, and which it has, so to say, 
cast away from it, but rather from the multitudes which 
hang in rosy redness on its heavily weighted branches. 
So do not judge of the gospel from those whose sins 
the gospel itself condemns, but rather from those who 
are adorning it by their characters and lives. You 
know there are such, and these, too, by no means few 
in number. You reckon some of them among your own 
acquaintances. You cannot deny that with them Chris- 
tianity is a reality. You have never been in their 
company for any length of time without feeling that 
they live "as seeing Him who is invisible." "If all 
Christians were like them," you have often said, " Chris- 
tianity would mean something." Whenever, there- 
fore, you are prone to dwell on the inconsistencies 
of hypocrites, recall such an one to your remembrance 
and that will keep you right. 

Nay, more, recall the blessed example of the Lord 
himself, and the holy precepts which he enjoined, and 
then you will never think of holding him responsible 
for acts which he has so emphatically condemned. Be 
it yours, now, without farther delay, to yield your 
hearts to the power of the Holy Spirit, and then let 
your aim be to shame the formalist by the earnestness 
of your own devotion to the cause of Christ. "It is 
better to fight for the good than to rail at the ill." 
Enlist, therefore, under Christ's banner, and let your 
protest against the vanity of the formalist and the 



296 



TRANSIENT IMPRESSIONS. 



guilt of the hypocrite take the practical form of a life 
dedicated to the service in all things of him who loved 
you and gave himself for you. 

But, ye who profess and call yourselves Christians, 
my second remark in regard to this matter shall be 
addressed to you. See what stumbling-blocks your 
inconsistencies put in the way of sinners who may be 
seriously thinking of returning to God, and be warned 
to be watchful over your lives. They look to you for 
guidance. See to it, therefore, that your actions guide 
them rightly. It is to little purpose that we point out 
the fallacy of which they are guilty, when they blame 
the gospel and the Lord for your misdeeds. So long 
as your character or conduct belies your profession, 
they will continue to reason in that fallacious manner. 
It becomes you, therefore, to deprive them of the 
premises from which alone they can draw, logically or 
otherwise, this conclusion. Men who have never read 
the Bible with care will read you. Yes, and when they 
begin to read the Bible they will read it through you 
See then that your character does not refract the rays 
of its truth, and so bend them as to distort their mean- 
ing. Not every one can take his time from the sun, 
and so multitudes must always depend upon the clock. 
But if the clock would not mislead men, it must be 
constantly regulated by careful observation of the 
heavenly bodies. Professing Christian, you are the 
clock to many an ungodly man around you, and if you 
would not mislead him, you must seek to have yourself 
daily regulated by careful and devotional observation 
of the Sun of Bighteousness. That which he sees in 
you may drive him away or keep him away from 
Christ ; therefore keep you near the Lord, and seek to 
imbibe his Spirit, so that instead of standing in the 
inquirer's way, you may even be the means of helping 
him on and introducing him to Christ. 



MEMOEY AS AN ELEMENT IN FUTURE 
RETRIBUTION. 



Luke xvi. 25. — " Son, remember." 

The parable from which these words are taken is, 
perhaps, the most striking and terrible ever spoken 
bj the Lord. It stands in immediate proximity to 
that of the prudent steward, and was designed to rivet 
the lesson which that had pointed and driven home. 
"If, therefore, ye have not been faithful in the un- 
righteous mammon, who will commit to your trust 
the true riches ? " — so had the Great Teacher ended 
the former allegory, and now, in the story of the rich 
man and Lazarus, he gives us a vivid illustration of 
unfaithfulness in the use of worldly possessions, and 
an awful warning of the consequences which flow from 
that form of sin. 

But while this, its primary purpose, can be clearly 
traced all through the parable, there are also many 
other things of great importance suggested by it. I 
am aware, indeed, that in interpreting such portions 
of Scripture, there is always a danger of mistaking 
what may be called the accessories or drapery of the 
story for the essential elements of the allegory, and 
probably in no case is that danger greater than in the 
instance before us. Yet, supported as we are by other 
portions of the word of God, we cannot err in de- 
ducing from my text, when taken in connection with 
the position of him to whom it was addressed, the 
solemn truth, that memory is one great element in the 
13* 297 



298 



MEMORY IN FUTURE RETRIBUTION. 



future retribution of the sinner. Leaving therefore 
for the present all the other questions raised by this 
parable out of view, let me concentrate your thoughts 
for a short time on this one topic. It is an awful 
theme ; may God enable me to speak of it in tender- 
ness and love. 

Memory is that power of the soul by which it re- 
tains the knowledge acquired by the perceptions and 
consciousness of the past. It is that faculty which 
enables us to review the events of yesterday, and to 
bring into the light of the present the experiences 
and actions and mental acquisitions of bygone years. 
But for it we should be as ignorant of what happened 
in the past, as we are of what shall occur in the 
future ; the mind would remain forever in the blank 
condition of infancy, and all that flitted before its 
view would leave no more impression upon it, than do 
the images which are reflected in a mirror on the 
smooth surface that reflects them. Without it, no 
process of reasoning could be carried on by us, and 
progress in any department of knowledge would be 
impossible. Without it the child could not retain his 
alphabet, the father could not remember his son, nor 
the son his father. Intercourse of man with man 
would be at an end, and history would become a 
blank. Without it the occupation of conscience would 
be gone, and responsibility would be but a name. 

This faculty is thus most intimately connected with 
man's intellectual advancement, social progress, and 
moral character, and it is only when we examine 
thus minutely into its nature, that we become fully 
convinced of its importance. Its operations are al- 
together inscrutable by us, and we can give no 
other account concerning them than this: that God 
has so made us that our minds have this partic- 



MEMORY IN FUTURE RETRIBUTION. 290 



ular power. Different philosophers, indeed, have 
sought by ingenious hypotheses to explain its work- 
ing ; but, though they all go a certain length, yet none 
of them gives any real solution of the matter. We 
know the operations of memory only from our con- 
sciousness of them in ourselves, and our observations 
of their results in others. In some men it seems to 
resemble a storehouse, wherein are laid up, some- 
times in methodical order and sometimes in loose con- 
fusion, the accumulated mass of facts, opinions, ac- 
tions, and the like, which have become the individual's 
property either by being observed, or heard, or read 
by him. In others, it may be likened to some spa- 
cious picture-gallery, on the walls of which are hung 
reproductions, faithful as the finest specimens of pho- 
tographic art, of all the scenes through which they 
have passed, or on which they have looked. In others 
still, one might speak of it as the haunted chamber of 
the soul, into which they never enter willingly, and 
in which, whenever they set foot in it, they are con- 
fronted with the gaunt spectres of the past, upbraid- 
ing them with folly and sin. Dark, hideous, horrible 
it is in the experience of all such, and to them no 
word more dread can be uttered than this one of my 
text, " remember," for it bids them face anew those 
ghastly shapes, more to be feared than " Gorgons, hy- 
dras, or chimeras dire." 

But to take a wider view. Memory is in every man 
the infallible autobiographer of the soul, and on its 
pages, however much they may be now concealed from 
view, are recorded every thought and feeling, every 
word and action, everything experienced and every- 
thing perceived, during the course of life. As in our 
meteorological stations, by a delicate instrument, with 
which some of you may be acquainted, the strength 



300 MEMOKY IN FUTURE RETRIBUTION. 

and direction of the wind are by the wind itself regis- 
tered without intermission from hour to hour, so on 
the tablets of memory the whole history of the soul is 
by the soul itself recorded with the most minute and 
unerring exactness. Not indeed that all that is at every 
moment consciously present to the mind. There is such 
a thing as forgetfulness, but over against that we must 
place the fact that things forgotten at one time are re- 
membered at another, so that we may fairly conclude 
that nothing is ever completely lost by the soul. 

Sometimes that which memory has retained is 
brought up by an effort of will, as when we set our- 
selves by various expedients to recall that which, for the 
moment, has gone from us. Thus, let it be a name, or 
a fact, or a passage from a favorite author that we wish 
to recollect, and forthwith we are conscious of a search 
analogous to that of the merchant seeking in his desk 
for some missing document, or that of the woman 
lighting her candle and sweeping the house in quest 
of the lost piece of silver. Sometimes, again, the 
past is brought back upon us by an incidental asso- 
ciation, as when the bereaved parent, by the sight of 
a little glove, or a tiny shoe, is reminded of his fair- 
haired darling, hears again her fairy prattle, sees 
again her merry gambols, and goes over anew all the 
painful details of that fatal sickness which took her 
from his arms. It may have been a score of years or 
more since the little one was laid beneath the sod, but 
swifter than the electric current, memory, at the bid- 
ding of that slight association, has travelled through 
the past, and lo ! it is as fresh as yesterday, or, say 
rather, as vivid as to-day. 

But to mention only one case more, sometimes mem- 
ory is quickened by the power of conscience, and that 
which it retains is brought out to attest or confirm 



MEMORY IN FUTURE RETRIBUTION. 301 

the justice of the award which that inward judge has 
pronounced. So it is with the man who has done 
some guilty deed. He is not allowed to forget it. 
His memory, like the dog's-eared book of the slug- 
gard school-boy, opens always at the same page, and 
confronts him with the record of his sin. Even in his 
sleep, remembrance gives a color to his dreams, and 
he awakes starting with alarm. What would he not 
give to be able to forget ! What would he not sacri- 
fice if he could but find some powerful agent which 
would wipe out the register of his iniquity ! 

It is this union of memory and conscience in the 
soul that renders the former so dreadful an element 
in retribution. Without conscience, memory would 
wear no terror, even as without memory, conscience 
would have no past wherewith to upbraid us. Mem- 
ory furnishes the material on which conscience shall 
pronounce, and conscience gives to memory the sting 
which turns it into remorse. This is evident, even in 
the present life. Our own experience testifies thereto ; 
and though a poet has sung in strains of beauty of 
the Pleasures of Memory, there are few of us who 
could not tell a thrilling tale of its agonies as well. 
But in the case of the world to come, over and above 
these things which make memory even here a scourge 
to the sinner, there are three considerations which are 
calculated to intensify its power of torment. I will 
mention and illustrate each of them. 

L Memory shall there recall the events of time as 
seen in the perspective of eternity. In the crowd and 
hurry of the present, things bulk before us dispropor- 
tionately. We need to be at a distance from them 
before we can estimate them rightly. That is one 
reason why the past is seen always more correctly 



MEMORt IN FUTURE RETRIBUTION. 



when it is past, than it was when it was present ; and 
why it is, that in taking a review of anything, we ob- 
serve more clearly where we have failed, or in what 
we have been to blame, than we did at the time when 
we were engaged in it. Thus, in playing a game of 
chess, we all know how the success of our adversary 
throws back a light in which we see a carelessness or 
want of skill, of which at the moment of our making 
the unfortunate move we were unconscious. So in 
business, a retrospect reveals points of folly and stu- 
pidity which you did not see so fully at the time at 
which you were guilty of them, and for not having 
seen which now you very sternly upbraid yourself. 
Now let this principle be extended to the retrospect 
of life as a whole, which in eternity the lost sinner 
has to take, and you will at once perceive how things 
which seemed to be of little moment as he was engaging 
in them, will assume a solemnity and an importance 
there which will make each of them another lash in the 
scorpion scourge of conscience. 

The light in which we stand determines what we 
see. If I stand within a brilliant room all gay with 
many lamps, and look out into the darkness of the 
night, I will see little or nothing ; but if, out in the 
cold and cheerless night, I stand and look into the 
lustrous chamber, I will perceive everything that it 
contains. Now on earth we occupy a position analo- 
gous to that of him who looks from light into dark- 
ness, and we see comparatively little into the darkness 
of the future ; but in the future world the sinner, in 
reviewing life, is looking from darkness back into the 
light, and so every minute thing is set vividly before 
his view. His misspent hours, his thoughtlessness, 
his folly, his secret sins, his presumptuous wicked- 
ness, all shall be brought out in their true importance, 



MEMORY IN FUTURE RETRIBUTION. 



303 



while evermore shall rise from his heart the unavail- 
ing cry, " O that I had been wise ! that I had under- 
stood this! that I had considered the latter end." 
Ah, my hearer ! you may think little now of such 
every-day vices as profanity, dishonesty, intemper- 
ance, uncleanness, and the like ; you may make light 
of your neglect of the "Word of God, and your rejection 
of Jesus Christ, the only Saviour; you may even make 
merry over your iniquities and glory in your shame ; 
but when you look back on these things from the view- 
point of eternity, they shall overwhelm you with their 
enormity and sink you by their weight. You may de- 
spise now the blessings which you enjoy, but when they 
have gone from you to return nevermore, you shall see 
them in their proper brightness, and upbraid yourselves 
for your madness in letting them go unimproved. 

2. But another thing calculated to intensify the power 
of memory as an instrument in the retribution of the 
future life, is the fact that there it shall be quickened 
in its exercise, and we shall not be able to forget any- 
thing. "We have seen that, as we now are, memory is 
by no means perfect. Things are forgotten or lost 
sight of, and the events of the past are jostled aside 
by the occurrences of the present, so that it is not 
until some incidental association revives them, that 
they form again the objects of our thought. In the 
world beyond, however, this shall be no more the 
case, but memory shall, with the utmost fidelity, per- 
form its office, and 

" Painted on the eternal wall 
The past shall reappear." 

Things of which we are now oblivious shall there be 
brought back with lurid distinctness to our remem- 
brance, and actions long buried beneath the sands of 



304 MEMOBY IN FUTURE RETRIBUTION. 

time shall, like the ruins of Pompeii, be dug up again 
into the light, and stand before us as they were at 
first. Among ancient manuscripts which modern re- 
search has brought to light, there are some, called 
by learned men palimpsests, in which it has been dis- 
covered that what was originally a gospel or an epistle, 
or other book of holy scripture, had been written over 
by a mediaeval scribe with the effusions of a profane 
poet ; but now, by the application of some chemical 
substance, the original sacred record has been repro- 
duced, and is used as an authority in settling the read- 
ing of disputed passages. So the pages of memory 
are palimpsests. They have been often written over, 
and though now perhaps the latest inscriptions alone 
are visible, yet, in the after state, through the appli- 
cation of the alchemy of the divine justice, each sepa- 
rate record shall be rendered legible, and not one jot 
or tittle of its faithful register shall remain concealed. 
Say not that this is impossible. They who have been 
rescued from drowning have testified that in the brief 
season during which they were submerged, they lived 
over again their lives, and minor acts of disobedience, 
unremembered from the moment of their commission, 
did then come up before them ; and if this was pos- 
sible in their circumstances, can it be doubted that 
the same effect can be produced by God's judicial 
act ? The book of memory shall form one of the most 
important of the books of judgment, and when it is 
opened by God's hand (and who may tell all which 
that opening implies ?) there shall be found confront- 
ing the sinner in characters of legible distinctness, 
the record of his sins. Oh, how shall you face that 
ordeal ? 

3. But yet another thing which will intensify the 



MEMORY IN FUTURE RETRIBUTION. 



305 



power of memory as an element in future retribution 
is the fact that, in the case of the lost, conscience shall 
be rectified and give just utterances regarding the 
events reviewed. We have seen that it is the union 
of memory and conscience that gives moral power to 
both. A faithless memory will prevent conscience 
from being faithful ; but, on the other hand, a faith- 
less conscience will neutralize the moral influence of 
a faithful memory. This is one reason why, on earth, 
memory, terrible as it is to many men, is not a hun- 
dredfold more so. Its reports are given to a con- 
science that is asleep, or seared, or perverted, and so 
no action of a moral kind is taken on them, and no re- 
morse is felt. The balance in which the statements 
made by memory are weighed is false, and so the issue 
is the opposite of what it ought to be. But, in the future 
state, conscience will be adjusted. At the last great 
tribunal it shall be, so to say, reset. Its peace cannot 
then be restored. Its purity cannot then be re-be- 
stowed. But it shall be made an accurate indicator, 
and a faithful reprover of the guilt of every sin which 
memory brings before it. As he now is, the sinner 
can look back with mirth on some hour of frantic 
dissipation, or some deed of shame ; but then con- 
science will compel him to contemplate such things 
with the agony of remorse. As he now is, he can con- 
gratulate himself on having done a clever thing when 
he has overreached his neighbor ; but then he will lose 
sight of the cleverness of the act in the guilt by which 
it was characterized. As he now is, he can gloss over 
his excesses by speaking of himself, in the specious 
and entirely deceptive phraseology of the world, as 
" fast," or " a little wild," or " sowing his wild oats," 
or the like ; but then conscience will insist on calling 
things by their right names, and each act of wicked- 



306 MEMORY IN FUTURE RETRIBUTION. 

ness will stand out before him as rebellion against 
God. As he now is, he may try to turn away his 
guilt, on the hinge of some " nevertheless," like him 
of whom it is written, " he was sorry, nevertheless, 
for the oath's sake, and the sake of them that were 
with him, he commanded it to be brought unto her;" 
but then, conscience will admit no such plea, and the 
sin which he natters himself into believing was a kind 
of duty, or at least a necessity, will appear in its true 
light ; while that which he supposed was shared with 
him by others, will not divide itself into different 
parts, but will fasten itself on him alone. It has found 
him out. 

Thus, with conscience rectified and memory quick- 
ened, it is not difficult to account for the agony of the 
lost, while at the same time the retributive conse- 
quences of sin in the future life are seen to be not 
the effects of some arbitrary and capricious sentence, 
but the natural and necessary results of violating the 
law which was written at first upon our moral consti- 
tution. 

But that I may make the impression somewhat 
deeper, let me apply these observations in one or two 
directions. 

1. Look at them in their bearing on the privileges 
which at present we so lightly esteem. Is it indeed 
true that each of them shall come up before the sin- 
ner at last with an importance deepened by the con- 
viction that if he had improved them he had not been 
in the place of woe ? Is it so, that no single one of 
them shall then be overlooked ? and that his neglect 
of them shall be regarded by him as not only the 
maddest infatuation, but also the deepest sin ? Is all 
this really the case ? Then what a mass of fuel he is 
gathering now, wherewith to feed the flames of hell ! 



MEMORY IN FUTURE RETRIBUTION, 307 



The Bible which he has despised ; the Sabbaths which 
he has profaned ; the means of grace which he has 
slighted ; the pardon and regeneration through Christ 
which he has trampled under foot ; a father's instruc- 
tions scoffed at, a mother's expostulations resisted, a 
pastor's affectionate earnestness resented as meddle- 
some intrusion, how will all these, not in the aggre- 
gate mass, but with individual and definite minute- 
ness, come crowding back upon him, and fill him 
with the bitterest self-reproach ! Ah, ye, who are 
thus systematically turning away from the privileges 
which God has put at your very hands, little do ye 
reflect what a fearful heritage you are laying up for 
yourselves in the after life ! Every blessing disre- 
garded now will there be recalled by memory, and 
transformed by conscience into an upbraiding reprover 
and an horrible tormentor. Is it not time, therefore, 
to pause in your mad career, and to return unto the 
Lord your God ? Why will you persist in " treasuring 
up for yourselves wrath against the day of wrath and 
revelation of the righteous judgment of God"? 

2. Again, let us apply the principles which have been 
before our minds this morning to the opportunities of 
doing good to others which we have allowed to go by 
us unimproved. Behold here, how the conscience of 
this man gives sting to his memory as he recalls the 
resources which were at his command, and sees now 
how much he might have done with them for the pro- 
motion of the welfare and happiness of his fellow-men ! 
What were the crumbs which Lazarus had recei ved from 
his table, compared with the good he might have done 
to multitudes of forlorn and hapless ones who were in 
rags and wretchedness ? Had he but used his wealth 
as he might have done, he would have provided some 
means whereby the sick and suffering might have been 



308 



MEMORY IN FUTURE RETRIBUTION^ 



cared for, so that the kindness of the dogs in licking 
the beggar's sores would not have shamed and re- 
proved the thoughtlessness of their master. Observe, 
also, how he now recalls his intercourse with his breth^ 
ren in his father's house, and remembers that he had 
never used any means, directly or indirectly, to prevent 
aither his own destruction or theirs. Never before 
had he seen his responsibility for them as he sees it 
now, and now that he does see it in its true light, he is 
not able to act according to its directions, so that the 
perception of it only magnifies and intensifies his agony. 

But is there no voice of warning in all this to us ? 
What a host of opportunities we are continually neglect- 
ing ! How many that we saw have we systematically 
ignored, passing them as the priest and Levite passed 
the half-dead traveller, " on the other side " ! How 
many that lay at our very hands we never perceived 
until they had irrecoverably gone ! and how poorly we 
have improved even those which we have attempted 
to turn to good account ! We can see all this in some 
degree now, but how much more weird and terrible 
would the retrospect be, if we were where this rich 
man is described as being. I do not know that there 
is in English literature anything more startling and 
salutary than the lesson Thomas Hood has pointed in 
his " Lady's Dream," when, confronted with the dark 
and loathsome insignia of death, the votary of fash- 
ionable selfishness is led to look back upon her life a 
and sees what she might have done but did not do : 

"The wounds I might have healed, 
The human sorrow and smart ! 
And yet it never was in my soul 

To play so ill a part. 
But evil is wrought by want of thought 
As well as want of heart." 



MEMORY IN FUTURE RETRIBUTION. 309 

This is the great teaching of the parable before me 
in respect of the opportunities of life. May God help 
us to lay it well to heart ! A lost opportunity is not 
simply a misfortune, it is a crime. Conscience will 
call it the murder of a brother, and will give him who 
is guilty of it a place beside him who cried, " Am I 
my brother's keeper ? " For is it not written thus, 
"If thou forbear to deliver them that are drawn to 
death, and those that are ready to be slain ; if thou 
sayest, Behold we knew it not ; doth not he that 
pondereth the heart consider it ? and he that keepeth 
thy soul, doth not he know it ? and shall not he ren- 
der to every man according to his works ? " 

But why, my dear friends, have I dwelt so long on 
this awful theme ? I have done so that I may magnify 
before you the riches of that grace which through 
Jesus Christ is able to save us from such dreadful 
suffering. I have done so that I may bring to bear 
upon you the strength of all that motive power which 
the consideration of such fearful things produces, and 
so induce you "to flee from the wrath to come." 
Sinner ! is there not enough in the thoughts which 
I have presented to you now to give you pause ? 
" Don't write there," said a little newspaper boy to a 
dandified youth, whom in the waiting-room of a rail- 
way station he saw about to scratch something with 
his diamond ring on a mirror that was hanging on the 
wall." "Don't write there!" "Why not?" "Because 
you can't rub it out ! " So would I have you, my 
unconverted hearer, to be careful what you write, in 
your words and actions, on the tablets of your mem- 
ory. You can't rub it out ! and as you think of that 
surely you will agree with me that " the time past of 
your lives may suffice to have wrought the will of the 
Gentiles." 



310 



MEMOEY IN FUTURE RETRIBUTION. 



But is there no escape from the bitterness of mem- 
ory and the stings of conscience ? Blessed be God, 
there is ! We may escape them both, through faith in 
the Lord Jesus Christ. His blood, shed in atonement 
for the sins of men, will wash away the stains of the 
believer's guilt, and his Spirit, shed abroad in the 
hearts of those who receive him, will purge and pacify 
their consciences. Trust in him is the true Lethe- 
stream, the drinking of which secures forgetfulness of 
all that is remorseful in the past. His blood, applied 
to the tablets of the memory, bleaches out of them 
all upbraiding guilt, and leaves upon them only ma- 
terial for praise. Nay, more; his Spirit, bestowed 
upon us in connection with our faith, disposes us to 
improve our privileges, and to see and seize upon 
every fleeting opportunity of honoring him, by serving 
our fellow-men. What other men cannot do for us, 
and what we cannot do for ourselves, he will per- 
form in us and on us. He will blot out our trans- 
gressions. He will change our characters. He will 
make memory a treasury of joy to us, and a cham- 
ber of thankfulness. He will take for us the re- 
morse out of the past, and the terror out of the 
future. In proportion therefore to the greatness 
of the misery which I have been seeking to portray, 
is the grandeur of the salvation which delivers from 
it. And if while you have been listening you have 
been thrilled with fear, let the fear move you to 
repair to him who only can deliver you. But repair 
to him at once. There is no changing of character, 
and no possibility of salvation in the future world. 
Hear these words : " Besides all this, between us and 
you there is a great gulf fixed, so that they which would 
pass from hence to you cannot, neither can they pass 
to us that would come from hence." If you are to 



MEMORY IN FUTURE RETRIBUTION. 



311 



secure salvation at all, therefore, you must secure it 
in this life. Let me implore you to turn from sin 
to Jesus, and so secure it now. Another opportu- 
nity of acquiring this priceless blessing has been put 
before you ; another warning of the danger you incur 
in letting it go past unimproved has been addressed 
to you ; perhaps even another resolution to break off 
your sins by righteousness and return unto the Lord 
is made by you this moment. It rests with yourself 
to determine whether that opportunity shall be lost, 
that warning neglected, that resolution broken, as so 
many have been before, or whether this service shall 
be ever gratefully remembered by you, as the turning- 
point of your history, from which you first set out for 
heaven. My discourse to-day has been to me indeed 
" the burden of the Lord." I have not shunned to 
declare unto you what I believe to be all the counsel 
of God on this awful subject. May he himself employ 
it for the conversion of men ! 



GOD'S MESSAGE TO THE DESPONDING. 

Isaiah 1. 10. — " Who is among you that feareth the Lord, that 
obeyeth the voice of his servant, that walketh in darkness, and hath 
no light ? let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his 
God." 

It is not, as you see from these words, a thing un- 
heard of or impossible, that a child of God should 
" walk in darkness and have no light." And when 
the sadness of such an experience comes upon the 
saint, it will not be always safe to say that it is the 
shadow of some special sin. No doubt, when we hear 
David cry, " Ke store unto me the joy of thy salva- 
tion," we are right in concluding that if he had not 
committed that great transgression which stains his 
name, he would not, at that time at least, have needed 
to present such a petition. So, also, when we see 
Elijah " under the juniper tree," and hear his pitiful 
wail, " O Lord, take away my life now," we cannot 
but feel that his flight from the post of duty is bear- 
ing its appropriate fruit. But the case described in 
my text is different from these. It is that of one who 
even at the moment " feareth the Lord, and obeyeth 
the voice of his servant," while yet he has lost the 
radiant happiness of the new life, and is bending un- 
der the weight of spiritual despondency. 

Many would say flippantly that a Christian must be 
very feeble indeed if he is ever in such a state, and some 
would say cruelly, that he who permits himself thus to 
be "in heaviness " cannot be a Christian at all. But 
all such unqualified assertions spring out of a shallow 

312 



god's message to the desponding. 313 

philosophy, and a superficial experience. For God 
does not change toward us with the mutations of our 
frames and feelings. Our salvation depends on Christ, 
and not on our emotions regarding it. They may rise 
and fall like the waves of the ocean, but he and the 
salvation which is in him are as stable as the stars. 
The security of the saint is rooted in the fact that God 
has a hold of him, and not at all in his consciousness 
that he has a hold of God. His comfort may be 
affected by the latter, but his safety is due entirely to 
the former. 

Hence, they who roundly affirm that if a man be 
walking in darkness and finding no light he can- 
not be a Christian, are making salvation depend, not 
on God's work for a man and in him, but simply 
and entirely on his own emotions. Moreover, they 
are strangely oblivious of some of the best-known 
passages in the history even of the most eminent 
saints. Out of what other experience than that of 
despondency was such a psalm as the forty-second 
born ? Yet who will say that its author, even at the 
very moment when he was singing it, was not truly a 
child of God ? Whence came that pathetic undertone 
that trembles beneath some of Paul's richest autobio- 
graphic passages, if not from the occasional distress 
that steals over every thoughtful man as he becomes 
increasingly conscious of the distance between him 
and his ideal? or as he hears, now fainter and now 
more distinct, like the roar of the surge upon the 
shore, the unceasing sound of the sins and sufferings 
of mankind ? Whence, again, that soothing utterance 
of Peter, as he says to his friends, " Though now for 
a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness," if not from 
his own experience of the effect of suffering on a sen- 
sitive and ardent nature ? 
14 



314 



god's message to the desponding. 



Tims it is not only uncharitable but untrue to say 
that despondency must be always traced to sin ; and 
he who unfeelingly alleges that if a soul be in sadness 
it has never been really renewed, may yet be led to 
revise his theory of the Christian life, as he passes 
through some valley of shadow, or lies in some dark 
Gethsemane, sobbing out the cry, " Father, if it be 
possible, let this cup pass from me ; nevertheless, not 
as I will, but as thou wilt." Immense harm has been 
done sometimes to a timid, shrinking, yet conscien- 
tious spirit by such thoughtless and unsympathetic 
utterances ; so let it stand out clear and distinct be- 
fore you this morning, as the first inference we draw 
from this text, that a man may be a sincere, earnest, 
and devout follower of the Lord Jesus, and yet " be 
walking in darkness." 

But while his despondency furnishes no valid rea- 
son for calling the genuineness of his religion in ques- 
tion, it is very far from being a comfortable thing in 
itself. It is not a state of mind in which any one 
desires to remain. And he should be encouraged to 
get out of it as quickly as possible. For it puts every- 
thing about him into shadow. It sets all his songs 
to a minor key. It gives to all his prayers a wailing 
pathos. It takes away much of his buoyancy and 
elasticity for work. And it stamps his countenance 
with a settled melancholy, which gives to those around 
him a disagreeable impression as to the results of 
serving God. It is, therefore, in every way desirable, 
both for his own happiness and for the good of others, 
that he should be brought out of the darkness into 
the light. 

Now, it may contribute to the production of that re- 
sult, if I turn your thoughts for a little to the causes 
out of which despondency may spring, and to the 



god's message to the desponding. 



'315 



counsels which in this text are given to those who are 
suffering from it. 

Adverting, then, to the causes of spiritual despond- 
ency, I mention, first, that it may spring from nat- 
ural temperament. However we may account for it, 
whether on the principle of hereditary transmission, 
or on that of special characteristics being given di- 
rectly by God to every man, it is the fact that each 
of us is born with a certain predisposition to joy or 
sadness, to irascibility or patience, to quickness of ac- 
tion or deliberateness of conduct, which we call tem- 
perament. And it is also true, that while conversion 
may Christianize that temperament, it does not change 
it. The sanguine man does not become after conver- 
sion a melancholy man. But then, on the other hand, 
the man of melancholy temperament is not made over 
into the sanguine when he comes to Christ. The 
Lord takes men as they are, and works in and through 
their very idiosyncrasies, so as to produce in his 
church that unity in variety which is the charm of 
the physical universe. 

Now, there are some men to whom, Christianity alto- 
gether apart, it comes as natural to be joyful as it does 
to the lark to sing its morning carol as it mounts into 
mid-heaven. And there are others, alas ! whose dis- 
position inclines them always to look on the darker 
side of things. In the former case there is no merit 
in the gladness, just as in the latter there is no blame 
in the sadness. In truth, if we were to get at all the 
facts of both cases, we might see that the man who 
was so generally desponding had in reality made far 
more exertion to cultivate joy than the other had 
done. For we are often shamefully unjust in our 
estimates of our fellows. In a class at school the 



316 god's message to THE DE3PONDING. 

first prize is often gained by a boy who did nothing 
to secure it. God made him so bright and quick that 
he could not help out-distancing all the rest, while 
the boy in the middle was perhaps ten times more 
diligent than he ; but not haying such original capital 
to work on, he made a poorer show. And in the same 
way many a man gets credit for good temper, who never 
knew what it was to be provoked ; while he who has 
restrained his explosiveness by great effort nine times, 
is reputedly a fiery-tempered man, because the dy- 
namite caught fire and burst on the tenth. We don't 
know what is restrained, we only know what comes 
out. And the same thing holds in this matter of de- 
spondency. We see the melancholy, but we do not see 
and we cannot know the daily efforts and prayers 
that are made by the man to overcome it. But Christ 
knows. And he will not be unjust like men. He will 
not make it, as men so often do, a thing to banter and 
ridicule you for. He knows it is a real trial, and he 
will give you honor in proportion to your effort to get 
above it. Do not fret, therefore, over that which is 
the result of temperament. Keep resisting it, and 
take to yourself the helping hand which the Lord 
stretches down to you in the precious injunction of 
my text. 

Again, spiritual despondency may be caused by 
disease. The connection between the soul and the 
body is both intimate and mysterious. They act and 
react upon each other ; so that while it is true that 
the power of the will may keep the body up under pro- 
tracted and severe labor, it is also true that the condi- 
tion of the body tinges and affects the experience of 
the soul. That which we call lowness of spirits is 
very often the result of some imprudence in diet, or 
some local disturbance. It would not do, of course, 



god's message to *he desponding. 817 

to resolve all spiritual phenomena thus into the con- 
sequences of our physical state. But every one who 
has given attention to the subject in any degree knows 
that the sound body is in all ordinary cases necessary 
to the sound mind ; and I believe that a Christian 
physiologist could render no better service to many 
desponding spirits than by preparing a work which 
should treat of the effects of different diseases on re- 
ligious experience. I know that in the course of my 
pastoral life, now extending nearly to a quarter of a 
century, I have seen many phases of so-called spir- 
itual depression, or exaltation, which I could only 
account for, under God, from the nature of the mala- 
dies with which the different individuals have been 
afflicted. Thus I have literally waded with a friend 
for months through the swelling river, and battled 
with the waves of despondency that were breaking 
over him ; yet, though I knew that he was a noble 
Christian, I did not lose my faith either in him or in 
God, because his disease was of the liver, and he saw 
things through a jaundiced eye. Again, I have heard 
great words of joyful confidence, and even of ecstasy 
come from those whose natures I knew were wanting 
in depth and stability, and if the truth must be told 
I did not set much store by them, for their disease 
was one which excited to hopefulness, and tended to 
lull every suspicion to sleep. 

Now see the relief which all this affords. It re- 
moves from religion the responsibility for the depres- 
sion of such a man as Cowper, and traces his spirit- 
ual gloom to disease of the brain ; while, on the other 
hand, it takes away from Christianity all reproach for 
the hypocrisy of the man who, while he seemed to be 
on his death-bed, talked with the unction of a saint, 
and then got well again, to transgress like an aban- 



318 GOD*S MESSAGE TO THE DESPONDING. 

doned sinner ; for there, too, the exhilaration was due 
to the peculiar character of the malady under which 
he was suffering. Many, I fear, will doubt these 
things ; but when they have been at as many sick- 
beds and death-beds as I have been, they may see 
reason to revise their opinion. At any rate, I am sure 
of this, that spiritual depression is very often the first 
indication of bodily disease, and that the medical at- 
tendant is fully as necessary in many cases as the spir- 
itual adviser. Now when we can trace our despond- 
ency to such a cause, it will cease to be a thorn to us. 
It will weigh heavily upon us, indeed, but it will no 
longer seem to us as if the Lord had deserted us, and 
so the trial will be deprived of its sting. One whom 
I knew had the Seventy-seventh Psalm read to him 
while he lay dying, and when he heard the tenth 
verse, "And I said this is my infirmity," he broke in 
with these words, "That's my liver. My soul and 
body so act one upon the other. With the liver wrong, 
the mind gets clouded, and I feel as though God had 
swept me out of his house as useless ; but after he 
has taken so much trouble to mould the vessel, he will 
not throw it aside." There you see was depression, 
but without the sting, and the reason was because the 
sufferer recognized the spiritual effect of his disease. 

But I hasten to remark further that spiritual de- 
spondency is often the result of trial. Think of 
Peter's words : " Ye are in heaviness through mani- 
fold trials." One affliction will not usually becloud 
our horizon. But when a whole series of distresses 
comes on us in succession, the effect is terrible. First, 
it may be, comes sickness, and we are getting round 
from that when business difficulties overwhelm us. 
These are scarcely arranged before bereavement comes ; 
and while we are still in the valley, we are set upon 



god's message to the desponding. 319 

by Apollyon in the shape of some scandalous accuser 
who seeks to rob us of our good name. Thus we are 
for years, it may be, passing through an experience like 
that of the sailor who is seeking to round a stormy 
cape, and is continually baffled by some cause or 
other, so that for weeks, as each morning breaks, 
there is still the same weariful headland beside him, 
with its dreary frown. Only those who have passed 
through such a series of afflictions, and who can say, in 
the words of the old prophet, " He hath barked my 
fig-tree and made it clean bare," can tell how much 
there is in such a history to weigh the spirit down- 
Nay, the same effect may be produced by the mere 
monotony of our labor, without any special affliction. 
To have the same things to do day after day for months ; 
to fill in one's constant round of duties with gin-horse 
regularity ; to feel as the years revolve that one is 
degenerating more and more into a machine — oh, who 
among us has not experienced the depression which is 
caused by such a history ? How many of us can enter 
into the feelings which Faber thus pathetically de- 
scribes : 

' ' Love adds anxiety to toil, 

And sameness doubles cares; 
While one unbroken chain of work 
The nagging temper wears." 

O ye mothers and housekeepers, you know what is 
meant by the assertion that " sameness doubles cares ;" 
and it is when such a burden is lying most heavily 
upon the heart that the words of my text come to us 
with their soothing influence, as sometimes the music 
of a song chanted by a wandering street singer steals 
into a troubled dream, and awakes us to comfort and 
security. 

But to mention no more, spiritual despondency may 



320 



god's message to the despondbtg. 



be caused by mental perplexity. We are living in an 
age when the spirit of inquiry and bold independent 
criticism is abroad. The sacred things of our faith 
are assailed. The old beliefs are once more on their 
trial, and when a youth reaches the age when he must 
exchange a traditional piety for a personal conviction, 
he is plunged for the time into the greatest misery. 
It seems to him almost as if everything were giving 
way beneath him. One assails him on the supernatural 
character of Christ ; another, on the authority of the 
Scriptures ; and others, bolder still, will question even 
the existence of God to him. And so he is launched 
on a black and stormy sea, over which he toils in row- 
ing, and even when in the fourth watch the Lord ap- 
pears to him marching over the waves, he is so broken 
down that he mistakes the Master for a ghost, and is 
terrified and affrighted. I tell you, friends, that when 
a soul is called to pass through such an ordeal it is 
no mere superficial anxiety that is felt. It is agony — 
deep, intense, enduring ; and I charge you, when your 
children are wrestling their way through it, that you 
do not upbraid them or blame them, but help them 
by entering into their difficulties, and removing if you 
can every stumbling-block from their path. And let 
those who are thus walking in darkness take to them- 
selves the comfort of my text, and walk on in the full 
assurance that there is light beyond. 

II. But now it is time to look at the counsels to the 
desponding which are given or suggested by this text. 
And here, very evidently, the first thing to be said is 
that the oppressed spirit must keep on fearing the 
Lord and obeying the voice of his servant. Whatever 
happens, these must not be given up. Nothing what- 
ever can furnish any proper reason for ceasing to prac- 



G0D*S MESSAGE TO THE DESPONDING. 821 

tice them; while, on the other hand, the neglect of 
them will only deepen the darkness that is already 
over you. If, therefore, your depression comes from 
temperament, or disease, or trial, never think of giving 
up God and his service. The tunnel may be long, but 
it will come to an end at last, if only you will go 
through it. But if you stand still in it you will be 
always in its darkness. Walk on, therefore, and what- 
ever you feel, let no evil be wrought by you, but keep 
steadily in the path of rectitude. And if you are in- 
volved in skeptical difficulties, let the same principle 
regulate you. Amid all your doubts you must accept 
some things as certain ; hold by these, then, and act 
up to them, so will you prove that you are a docile 
learner, and put yourself into a position where you 
will catch the first glimpses of returning light. 

Very instructive in this regard is the experience 
recorded by Frederick W. Robertson, of his striving 
toward the light, in that terrible spiritual conflict 
which he fought out among the solitudes of the Tyrol. 
In one of his letters written there he says : " Some 
things I am certain of, and these are my Ursachen, 
which cannot be taken away from me. I have got so 
far as this : Moral goodness and moral beauty are 
realities, lying at the basis and beneath all forms of 
the best religious expressions." And, generalizing 
from his own case, he thus addressed the working-men 
of Brighton, in words which I delight to quote, be- 
cause, though I did not meet with them until after I 
had written the former part of this discourse, they 
corroborate in the strongest manner what I have 
already said : 

" It is an awful hour — let him who has passed through it say how 
awful — when this life has lost its meaning and seems shrivelled 
into a span ; when the grave appears to be the end of all, human 

14* 



322 god's message to the desponding. 

goodness nothing but a name, and the sky above this universe a 
dead expanse, black with the void from which God himself has 
disappeared. In that fearful loneliness of spirit, when those who 
should have been his friends and counsellors only frown upon his 
misgivings and profanely bid him stifle his doubts, I know but 
one way in which a man may come forth from his agony scathe- 
less ; it is by holding fast to those things which are certain still — 
the grand, simple landmarks of morality. In the darkest hour 
through which a human soul can pass, whatever else is doubtful, 
this, at least, is certain. If there be no God and no future state, 
yet even then it is better to be generous than selfish ; better to be 
chaste than licentious ; better to be true than false ; better to be 
brave than to be a coward. Blessed beyond all earthly blessed- 
ness is the man who, in the tempestuous darkness of the soul, has 
dared to hold fast these venerable landmarks. Thrice blessed 
is he who, when all is cheerless within and without, when the 
teachers terrify him and his friends shrink from him, has obsti- 
nately clung to moral good. Thrice blessed, because his night 
shall pass into clear, bright day." 

If there be any young man before me passing 
through this terrible ordeal, let him take to himself 
the direction and the comfort of these eloquent sen- 
tences. Or, if he would have the same thing in home- 
lier phrase, let him remember that only by acting up 
to the level of our present convictions can we rise to 
higher things. Sometimes an evil life has led to a 
shipwreck of the faith ; but always a good character 
clarifies the spiritual conception; for has not Jesus 
said, " If any man be willing to do his will, he shall 
know of the doctrine, whether it be of God?" Keep 
your conduct abreast of your conscience, and very 
soon your conscience will be illumined by the radiance 
of God. 

But to the desponding believer the second thing to 
be said is, keep on trusting God. What a blessed priv- 
ilege it is to be permitted to do that! My Bible 
would not be so precious to me as it is to-day if I 



god's message to the desponding. 323 

could not read these words in it: "Let him trust in 
the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God." When 
we cannot see, it is an unspeakable blessing to have 
some hand to cling to ; and when that hand is God's, 
it is all right. But let us take the full comfort of these 
sayings. "Let him trust in the name of the Lord." 
What is that name? It is "Jehovah, God, merciful 
and gracious ; long-suffering ; purifying iniquity, trans- 
gression and sin ; and who will by no means clear the 
guilty." Therefore I need not despair about my guilt, 
for there is forgiveness with him. What is that name ? 
It is Jehovah Tsidkenu — the Lord our righteousness. 
Therefore I may in him have " boldness in the day of 
judgment." What is that name ? It is Jehovah Bo- 
pheka — the Lord that healeth thee. Therefore I may 
bring all my spiritual maladies, and this of despond- 
ency among them, to him for cure. What is that name ? 
It is Jehovah Jireh — the Lord will provide. Therefore 
in every time of strait I may rest assured that he will 
give me that which is needful. What is that name ? 
It is Jehovah Nissi — the Lord my banner ; and as I 
unfurl that signal and wave it over me, I may see in 
it the symbol of his protection. What is that name ? 
It is Jehovah Shalom — the Lord of peace; and so, 
beneath his sheltering wing, I may be forever at 
rest. # 

Then let us not fail to note the deep meaning of that 
word "stay." It does not bid you only take a moment- 
ary grasp of God's hand. It encourages you to lean 
your whole weight upon him, and to do that continu- 
ously. What can harm you, brother, while you are 
thus permitted to cast, not your care, only, but your- 
self, on God ? Come, then, and lay down your weary 
self upon him. He will not cast you off. And, that 
you may know what laying yourselves down on him 



324 god's message to the desponding. 



implies, let me gratify myself by repeating to you 
these exquisite lines : 

' ' I know not what the future hath 
Of marvel or surprise, 
Assured alone that life and death 
His mercy underlies. 

4 'And if my heart and flesh are weak 
To bear an untried pain, 
The bruised reed he will not break, 
But strengthen and sustain. 

"No offering of my own I have, 
Nor works my faith to prove, 
I can but give the gifts he gave, 
And plead his love for love. 

" And so beside the silent sea 
I wait the muffled oar, 
No harm from him can come to me, 
On ocean or on shore. 

"I know not where his islands lift 
Their fronded palms in air; 
I only know I cannot drift 
Beyond his love and care. 

u O brothers ! if my faith is vain, 
If hopes like these betray, 
Pray for me that my feet may gain 
The sure and safer way. 

"And thou, O Lord! by whom are seen 
Thy creatures as they be, 
Forgive me if too close I lean 
My human heart on thee. " * 

But, you say, what warrant have I thus to lean on 
God ? I might answer, is not his own word enough ? 
But I prefer to reply, look at the cross of Calvary, and 



* Whittier's Poems, vol. II. pp. 426, 427. 



GOD*S ?£ESSAGE TO THE DESPONDING. 325 

see there how much he loves you. Do you think he 
would have given there his Son to death for you if he 
were not willing, also, to give you everything needed 
by you to sustain you through life? Jesus cried, "Mv 
God! my God! why hast thou forsaken me?" just 
that you might never feel yourself forsaken. He took 
even the blackness of your darkness on him that he 
might lead you into the light. Therefore, stay upon 
God, and take for yourself this comfort, that when you 
have passed through this trial you will be twice the 
man you were before, for all purposes of Christian 
usefulness. Your own experience will put pathos into 
your heart, which will be itself a power as you seek 
to plead with others ; for the Lord is now giving you 
the tongue of the learned, that you may know to speak 
" a word in season to him that is weary." It is a pain- 
ful education, but the result is a rare and beautiful 
accomplishment. Do you think Whittier could have 
sung those thrillingly^ penetrative lines which I have 
just repeated, and which find their way down to the 
deep places of men's souls, if he had never known 
despondency ? Do you imagine Eobertson could have 
spoken that noble passage which I quoted a few min- 
utes ago, if he had not been describing himself in it ? 
And was not Paul the prince of comforters, because he 
comforted others with the consolation wherewith him- 
self was comforted of God? Yea, is not the Lord able 
to succor them that are tempted, in that he himself 
suffered, being tempted ? Hold on, hope on, trust on, 
for such sadness as yours is the forerunner of true joy ; 
and the tears you shed are preparing the seed which 
in coming days you are to sow. Thus out of the eater 
will come forth meat, and out of the bitter sweetness. 

But some one may say, "This is all an artificial 
thing. I have no despondency, because I have no re- 



326 GOD'S MESSAGE TO THE DESPONDING. 

ligion. Let men live as I do, taking the world's joy, 
and they need not concern themselves about anything 
else." Say you so, my friend? Then this is for you, 
and as it is the very next verse to my text, the contrast 
is overwhelming : " Behold, all ye that kindle a fire, 
that compass yourself about with sparks ; walk in the 
light of your fire and in the sparks that ye have kin- 
dled; this shall ye have of mine hand, ye shall lie 
down in sorrow." The Christian has all his sadness 
here, and he passes hereafter into a region of sunnier 
skies and serener air, where sorrow and sighing shall 
never come. But you have all your gladness here, and 
you shall pass into that place where " there is weeping 
and gnashing of teeth." Which is the better ? I have 
had trials — some of them dark enough. But I delib- 
erately say that I would rather pass through these 
again, if I might retain under them the hope of unend- 
ing felicity hereafter, than enjoy the richest gladness 
that the worldling knows, with no God to stay myself 
upon and no heaven to look to as my home. Oh, that 
staying upon God ! If you only knew how much it 
means, you would not put it thus away from you. 
Come, then, and acquaint yourself with him, through 
Jesus Christ, so shall you know that there is some- 
thing better even in the Christian's despondency, than 
there is in the unbeliever's joy. 



UNCONSCIOUS DETEEIOKATION. 



Ho sea vii. 9. — " Gray hairs are here and there upon him, yet he 
knoweth not." 

These words describe the spiritual condition of the 
kingdom of Israel in the turbulent times which fol- 
lowed the reign of the second Jeroboam, and during 
the later portion of the lengthened ministry of the 
prophet Hosea. Falsehood, theft, and wickedness of 
every sort were rampant in the land ; and as one king 
after another took possession of the throne, it seemed 
as if, in eager rivalry, each sought to outdo in iniquity 
all those who went before him. Sometimes anarchy and 
interregnum varied the character of the country's ills ; 
and at length, as in the time of the decline of the 
Eoman empire, the throne became the possession of 
him who had the might to seize it, and the cruelty to 
put to death every other claimant for it. Nor were 
the enormities of the time confined to the rulers; "for 
the wicked walk on either hand when vile men are 
exalted." The thief robbed from within and the 
spoiler spoiled from without. Sin in its worst forms 
was prevalent among the people. Their strength was 
consumed by their indulgence in kinds of wickedness 
which strangers had introduced among them; and 
everything about them betokened, to those who could 
read the signs aright, that they were rapidly hastening 
to national extinction. Of all this, however, they were 
themselves unconscious. They imagined that they 
were strong as at other times, and dreamed that long 



328 



UNCONSCIOUS DETERIORATION. 



years of prosperity were yet before tliem. Like the 
shorn Samson, they "wist not that the Lord had 
departed from them;" and recked not of the destruc- 
tion that was so soon to overtake them, when the 
armies of Assyria should sweep over their land like a 
resistless tide, and bear back on the refluent wave the 
entire inhabitants into hopeless exile. They were un- 
dermined in strength, and were not aware of it; they 
were already in the old age of their history, and they 
knew it not. And this unconsciousness of their true 
condition was the saddest feature of their case. They 
were like a man who has crossed the boundary be- 
tween manhood and old age, and who has not discov- 
ered the effect which the lapse of years has had upon 
him, but is only awakened to the truth by his utter 
helplessness in the face of some critical emergency. 
Hence the prophet says regarding Ephraim, " Stran- 
gers have devoured his strength, and he knoweth it 
not ; yea, gray hairs are here and there upon him, yet 
he knoweth not." 

Now we have something very much like this in the 
religious history of many among ourselves ; for this 
unconsciousness of deterioration it is which marks 
the distinction between the common backslider and 
the open repudiator of the faith. We are, alas ! only 
too familiar, in these days of unsettlement, with the 
case of the man who has abjured the religion of his 
youth. Brought up by pious parents and trained to 
pray at his mother's knee, he has early come under 
religious impressions. He has received the truth in 
simple trustfulness from the lips of those who were 
dearest to him, and for a time he has rejoiced in the 
peace which is ever the first-fruit of faith. But after 
a while there came an epoch, when he had to ex- 
change a mere traditional religion for one of personal 



UNCONSCIOUS DETEKIOKATION. 



329 



conviction; and,. in that transitional stage, he was 
caught in the currents of our modern unbelief, so that 
one after another his old faiths have gone from him ; 
and now he is, to use the convenient word which has 
been coined to describe him, an agnostic, having no 
belief in reference to religion save this, that nothing 
can be certainly known regarding it. But all this has 
not been without something of the nature of a strug- 
gle in him. Not without a pang did he give up the 
hopes that were once dear to him. He knows the 
change that has passed upon him, and sometimes yet 
he looks wistfully back, and almost sighs, " O that it 
were with me as in months past." The memory of his 
father's godliness haunts him ; occasionally, too, the 
spell of his mother's prayers is over him. He knows 
what he has lost, and in that knowledge lies the hope 
of his restoration. Nay, if he shall meet with a wise, 
sympathizing Christian friend, who has had to face 
and master for himself the same difficulties, he may be, 
as many such have been, led back to the feet of Jesus, 
to give him the homage of an intelligent and whole- 
hearted loyalty. That, I say, is an experience with 
which we are in these days only too familiar, and the 
man who is passing through it, who has let go every- 
thing that once was a faith to him, is to be sympa- 
thized with, and helped and prayed for, even if he 
should sometimes break out into bitter invective 
against the gospel ; for the very bitterness of his in- 
fective may be the means he is using to make himself 
forget his misery, and may serve only to reveal his 
consciousness of the difference between what he is 
and what he was. He knows that he is different, and 
in that knowledge there is yet hope for him. 

But it is not thus — in the initial stages of the pro- 
cess, at least — with ordinary backsliding ; for in that 



830 



UNCONSCIOUS DETERIORATION. 



the most dangerous element is that the man is largely 
unaware of the change that has come over him. To 
the view of those around him he is very far from 
being what he once was. They remember when he 
passed through a religious crisis very sharp and de- 
cided, after which in word, and temper, and conduct, 
he was apparently desirous of doing honor to the 
Lord. But now, all that was distinctive of him as a 
Christian seems to have been somehow rubbed down. 
He has lost his watchfulness over his speech ; his 
relish for the society of the people of God ; his de- 
light in ordinances ; his interest in all earnest efforts 
for the well-being of others ; and his sensitiveness 
of conscience as to the conventionalities of trade and 
society. But he does not know it ; he is not concerned 
about it ; he thinks that all is well with him, because 
he can point to his past history and his present posi- 
tion in the church. Is he not still " in good and regu- 
lar standing " on the communion roll ? There can be, 
therefore, nothing wrong with him, and so, though the 
evidences of declension are seen on him by every on- 
looker, and deplored by every Christian brother, they 
are unnoticed by himself. 

Now I do not wish to undervalue the danger of the 
man who has deliberately and knowingly parted with 
his faith, and yet I have no hesitation in affirming 
that this latter case is far more perilous than his ; 
because the one man knows what he has done, and 
the other is unaware of his condition. The one man 
is awake and may take action at once for his recovery ; 
the other is asleep, and needs first to be awakened 
before he will take measures for his restoration. It 
may serve a good purpose, therefore, as tending to 
keep us from deceiving ourselves, or to reveal us truly 
to ourselves, if we attempt this morning to account 



tNCONSCIOUS DETEKIOKATTON. 3Bl 

for the fact that a man may have largely fallen away 
from Christian rectitude of heart and life without 
being aware of his defection. I want, if I can, to ex- 
plain and account for the element of unconsciousness 
which characterizes backsliding, and which is one of 
the most dangerous features in it, and the exposure of 
the causes will be itself an indication of the nature of 
the remedy. 

How comes it then, let me ask, that a man may slip 
away from earnestness in the Christian life, into a 
condition of spiritual decrepitude, without knowing 
it? I answer, in the first place, because we are all 
inclined to look more favorably on ourselves than on 
others. "We mark the changes in the external appear- 
ance of our neighbors far more exactly than we do 
those which manifest themselves in our own. We see 
the pallor of disease, or the wrinkles of care, or the 
stoop of old age, far more readily in another than we 
do in ourselves. When two friends who have been 
separated for many years meet again, each says to the 
other, " How changed you are ! " but neither has taken 
note of the alterations in himself; and when disease 
is invading the frame, the visitor notices its progress 
far more distinctly than does the patient himself. 
But it is not otherwise in spiritual matters, for in 
these also we are far more quick to discern the defec- 
tions of our neighbors than our own. The Scottish 
poet has truly said that 

"If self the wavering balance shake, 
It's rarely right adjusted." 

One sees the mote in his brother's eye, while he is 
unconscious of the beam that is in his own. He can 
speak of the falling away of his neighbor with severity ; 



332 



UNCONSCIOUS DETEBIOKATION. 



but when you bid him examine himself, the case is 
altered, and a different standard is brought into opera- 
tion. His self-love, or self-conceit, or self-security 
prevents him from coming to an impartial decision, 
and he may be far gone in a course of backsliding 
before he takes note of the fact. The victim of dis- 
sipation observes the traces of excess on another, and 
may even moralize over the folly of which he is guilty ; 
but he is all unconscious of the unnatural nabbiness, 
the unwholesome color, the unsteady hand, and the 
blood-shot eyes which others see in himself. And, in 
a similar way, the man who is himself declining in 
spiritual health may be, very often is, blind to his 
own defections, while yet he has a clear perception of 
the backslidings of others. Now, how shall this evil 
be prevented? By trying ourselves fairly by the 
standard of God's "Word, and by laying ourselves open 
in earnest supplication to the inspection of the Lord 
himself. Matthew Henry has somewhere said that 
" apostasy from God generally begins at the closet ; " 
and I am sure that a regular, intelligent, and sincere 
employment of those means of grace which centre 
there would keep us from the self-deception which 
I am now seeking to expose. No one can look fairly 
into the mirror of the Word, without discovering 
what manner of man he is ; and however much a man 
may be disposed to play the hypocrite in public, 
there is no temptation to do that in secret. The truth 
rather is, that when he kneels in his closet he feels 
that he is alone with God, and that the very innermost 
secrets of his soul are known to him, with whom there 
he has to do. That is the reason why, when one has 
been doing wrong, he does not care to enter his closet. 
He is afraid of the revelation which will there be made 
to him. He is like a bankrupt merchant, who fears to 



UNCONSCIOUS DETERIORATION. 



333 



look into his books and strike a balance, because lie 
does not want to know the certainty of his poverty, 
and so he drifts on into irreparable dishonor. But the 
very thing he fears to do now might, if it had been 
done by him regularly, have prevented the disaster. 
And in the same way, the very fact that, when one has 
been going astray he fears to enter his closet, is an 
evidence that if he had been making Ml use of the 
closet he would never have fallen into iniquity. One 
grand and sovereign specific against spiritual insensi- 
bility is to be found in secret devotion. That keeps 
the eye single and the whole body full of light. That 
brings us regularly up to the standard of God's law, 
and measures us not by the conventionalities of society 
or the customs of business, but by the example of the 
Lord Jesus. That sets us in the white light of God's 
own purity, and so reveals to us every spot that is in 
ourselves. That delivers us from the temptation of 
comparing ourselves with others among our fellow- 
men, and centres our thoughts on what we are before 
the All-seeing. That offers and answers at one and the 
same time the Psalmist's prayer, "Search me, O God, 
and know my ways ; try me, and know my thoughts, 
and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me 
in the way everlasting." So we venture to affirm that 
he who is in the habit of reviewing the transactions of 
the day in his closet, in the presence of God, and in 
the light of his Word, will not be likely to fall under 
the chloroforming influence of backsliding. For alone 
on his knees he dare not misjudge himself. At the 
family alfcar there may be some motive for acting a 
part, as there may be also in the sanctuary and at the 
communion table ; but in the closet there can be none. 
Either, therefore, he will be sincere in it, or he will 
give up entering it altogether. So let every one who 



334 



UNCONSCIOUS DETERIORATION. 



would save himself from unconscious backsliding be 
regular and earnest in private prayer, and diligent and 
devout in the study of the Word of God. 

But, in the second place, I remark that this insensi- 
bility to spiritual deterioration may be largely owing 
to the gradual way in which backsliding steals upon a 
man. If one's hair were to change from raven black- 
ness to snowy whiteness in a single night, he could not 
fail to be struck with the alteration in his appearance. 
But because the grey hairs came one by one, increas- 
ing by slow degrees, and mingling with the others 
almost imperceptibly, he takes little knowledge of the 
transformation through which he is passing. To-day 
shows little difference from yesterday, and to-morrow 
will show little difference from to-day ; and thus, be- 
cause the process is gradual, he is apt to think that 
there has been no such process going on at all, and 
that everything is and will be as it was. If, in a single 
day, the constitution of a man were to give way, and 
he who left home in the morning " rejoicing, as a strong 
man, to run a race," were to return in the evening hoary 
and toothless, leaning on a staff, and bending under the 
infirmities of age, he could not fail to be aware of the 
change ; yet, because such a transition is made through 
the gradations of years, there is little consciousness of 
the process. Let any one take a series of his own por- 
traits in the different stages of his history — as a boy at 
school, as a youth at college, as a young man entering 
business, as a man in his prime, and as he now is on 
the eve of threescore years and ten— and he will be 
surprised at the difference between each of these and 
all the rest. And yet they are all correct. They were 
all good at the time when they were taken, for he has 
passed through all these stages^ and it is only as he 



UNCONSCIOUS DETEKIOKATION. 



335 



contrasts the last of them with the first that he dis- 
covers how great the transformation has been. Who 
of us that has reached or passed middle age does not 
sympathize with Miss Prccter in that beautiful lyric, 
in which, after describing thn bringing-out by an elderly 
lady of a portrait which had been taken of her when 
she was a young woman, she moralizes in this suggest- 
ive fashion: 

"It is strange : but life's Currents drift us 
So surely and swiftly on 
That we scarcely notice tlr^ changes 
And how many things arc gone. 

"And forget while to-day absorbs us 
How old mysteries are unsealed ; 
How the old, old ties are loosep^d, 
And the old, old wounds are *ieale<?-» 

"And we say that life is fleeting 
Like a story that Time has told^ 
And we fancy that we, we only 
Are just what we were of old. 

" So now and then it is wisdom 
To gaze, as I do to-day, 
At a half-forgotten relic 

Of a time that is passed away, 
***** 
" If it only stirred in my spirit 
Forgotten pleasure and pain, 
Why, memory is often bitter, 
And almost always in vain. 

" But the contrast of bygone hours 
Comes to rend a veil away, 
And I marvel to see the stranger 
Who is living in me to-day." 

How true that is to every one's experience ! The 
very gradualness of the changes weaves a veil that 



336 



UNCONSCIOUS DETEKIOBATTON. 



hides tlieir magnitude from view, and if that be the 
case with such as an external portrait suggests, how 
much more must it be so with those which affect in- 
ternal character! For no one becomes very wicked 
all at once, and backsliding, as the very term itself 
implies, is a thing not of sudden manifestation, but of 
gradual motion. It is a sliding rather than a stepping ; 
a course into which we slip, and not so much a con 
dition into which we purposely and deliberately reduce 
ourselves. One stage passes into another like the va- 
rious tints of wool in a piece of lady's needlework. 
At the one side there is the lightest hue of evil, and at 
the other there is the darkest, deepest dye of sin ; but 
the intermediate shades merge almost imperceptibly 
into each other, and they are all only different degrees 
of the same color. So it is only when we compare the 
later with the earlier that the difference forces itself 
upon our attention. 

Or, to illustrate it in another way: the distance 
between what we are and what we were, great though 
it be, has been traversed in single steps. Taken 
separately there was little in each of these that 
seemed to be of much importance. It appeared only 
a very slight degree different from the one by which 
it was preceded ; but that slight degree, continued in 
countless successive instances, has led to a wide di- 
vergence at the last. A small difference at the point 
of sight on the rifle is a mighty variation before the 
ball reaches its destination : a little error at the 
marksman's hand becomes a wide one in the neigh- 
borhood of the target. And though the stone that is 
laid upon the foundation may be only a very little out 
of the perpendicular, yet the mistake, if continued up 
the wall, will make the whole fabric unsafe. So it 
is also in conduct. But, alas! we befool ourselves 



UNCONSCIOUS DETEEIOEATION. 



337 



by taking a view of actions simply in reference 
to those by which they are immediately preceded, 
and, because we see little difference between those 
that are thus in juxtaposition, we flatter ourselves that 
there is just as little difference between what we 
were at first and what we are now, and we forget that 
by the aggregation of those littles, to which individu- 
ally we were indifferent, we have already gone far in 
the direction of evil. 

Now, here again it is an interesting and impor- 
tant question, how we may counteract this tendency 
and discover our true position, and the answer is 
nearly akin to that which we gave to the former 
inquiry ; for we shall know where we are when we 
test ourselves by the Word of God, as that has 
been vindicated for us by the example and the spirit 
of the Lord Jesus. The mariner does not leave him- 
self to the chapter of accidents, or let himself drive 
whithersoever the elements may urge him. Each 
hour of his reckoning may seem in itself a compara- 
tively small affair ; but he does not therefore imagine 
that it is of no consequence, for he takes an observa- 
tion of the sun every day with his sextant, and from 
that he calculates his position. So let us not compare 
ourselves simply with that which we were yesterday or 
last week or last year ; but let us rather take daily sights 
of the Sun of Kighteousness, and shape our course ac- 
cordingly. Let us maintain unbroken intercourse with 
Jehovah ; let us cultivate acquaintance with his Word ; 
let us have stated times for self-examination, using this 
divine law as the standard by which we test our lives ; 
above all, let us watch against evil beginnings, for 
the process of declension is gradual, and, besides, the 
sin itself has such a benumbing influence on the con- 
science that, unless we are on our guard, we may be- 
15 



338 



UNCONSCIOUS DETEKIOKATION. 



come so hardened that some heinous wickedness may 
be committed by us with less compunction than we 
felt at our first departure from the course of rectitude. 
When the mercury in the thermometer itself becomes 
frozen, it makes no registration of the cold beneath 
that point, and so when the conscience becomes seared 
the soul is what Paul has called " past feeling," and 
such insensibility is the precursor of spiritual death. 
Wei], therefore, may we pray with David, "Who 
can understand his errors? Cleanse thou me from 
secret faults. Keep back thy servant also from pre- 
sumptuous sins ; let them not have dominion over 
me ; then shall I be upright, and I shall be innocent 
from the great transgression." 

But I remark, in the last place, that this uncon- 
sciousness of backsliding may be largely accounted 
for in many cases by the fact that the individuals are 
absorbed in other matters to such an extent that the 
state of the heart is forgotten. Take the case here 
of the successful merchant. His business is extend- 
ing, and it requires all the energy he possesses, and 
all the time he can command, to superintend the es- 
tablishment of which he is the head. In the morning 
his earliest thoughts are given to the arrangement of 
the work of the day. Each hour as it comes is filled 
with occupation. In the heat of his devotion to the 
work before him, his spirit may be chafed and his 
temper fretted, so that, almost before he knows it, im- 
proprieties of speech, and sharp practices in business 
hardly consistent with a due consideration of the rights 
of others may be indulged in by him. Then when even- 
ing comes he is worn out, and seeks repose without 
first pausing to review the day in the holy solitude 
of the closet, Thus from day to day the evil in* 



UNCONSCIOUS DETERIORATION. 



339 



creases, and when the Sabbath comes he is in no 
mood for the enjoyment of the sanctuary, and puts 
away from him the help that might come from God's 
ordinances ; or, if he comes to the house of prayer, 
he resents the faithful home-thrusts of his pastor, and 
goes away angry with the truth, rather than dissatis- 
fied with himself. The next week the evil is increased, 
and so the thing goes on, and the grey hairs of spirit- 
ual decrepitude are on him, while yet he is thinking 
only of his social respectability and his worldly suc- 
cess ! I do not hesitate to say that it has been pre- 
cisely in this way that many have gone away backward. 
Just in proportion as their business prosperity has 
increased, their spiritual health has diminished. They 
have not been actuated by any positive antagonism to 
God's Word, or moved by any positive aversion to his 
ways ; but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness 
of riches have choked the word in them, and they 
have become unfruitful. And what is true of busi- 
ness, as such, may be true of literature, or science, or 
art, or whatever else engrosses the entire attention 
of the soul. Ay, God help us ! so deceitful is the 
human heart that it may be true even of the ministry 
of the gospel, for the caring for the vineyards of 
others may be the occasion of our neglecting our own. 

Now here, again, the question arises, how is this 
danger to be obviated? And the answer is, in one 
of two ways : namely, either by curtailing the busi- 
ness, or by consecrating it as a whole to God. It may 
be prevented by curtailing our business, for beyond a 
certain point even that which is laudable may become 
a slavery, and however much he may be tempted by 
success, it is no man's duty to launch out into such 
engagements that he has neither time nor strength nor 
inclination for devotional meditation and closet fellow- 



340 



UNCONSCIOUS DETERIORATION. 



ship with God. I willingly concede that, at the other 
extreme, it is just as dangerous for one to retire pre- 
maturely altogether from business, for idleness has be- 
setments which are as insidious as those which attend 
on over-exertion ; and it is as perilous to have too lit- 
tle to do, as it is to have too much. But still, when one 
feels himself in danger of being sucked into secularity 
by the force of success, let him draw back from the eddy, 
and rather be content to do a smaller business, with 
safety to his spiritual interests, than a larger one that 
may imperil them. The same considerations which 
apply here to the health of the body, have equal force 
in the case of that of the soul ; for just as over-work 
paralyzes the brain and brings on premature old age, 
so also it overlays the piety, and dries up the sources 
of the spiritual strength. The energies of the man are 
so engrossed in that which he has come to believe to 
be his duty in the store, that they are entirely diverted 
from the consideration of those things which concern 
the welfare of his soul ; and as the sucker steals away 
the nourishment which ought to have gone into the 
tree, and grows at its expense, so the business is car- 
ried on to the detriment of the spirit. That which 
should have gone to increase the vigor of the man's 
holiness, has been spent in increasing the amount of 
his worldly wealth. Alas ! alas ! in how many instances 
among us this is the simple truth ! So let me warn 
you, my business friends, against this danger. Let me 
beseech you to be content with moderation ; and when 
you feel the demands of mercantile life becoming so 
engrossing that they steal you from your family and 
your closet, think that you may buy your riches at too 
dear a price, and forbear. 

But this danger may be avoided, also, by the con- 
secration of the entire business to God, so that the 



'Unconscious deterioration. 341 



attention which we give to it becomes itself a part of 
our service of God. This is, in my view, the loftiest 
attainment of the Christian life ; and he who carries 
on his work for God, and regards its gains as not his 
own, but God's — he who in his daily calling is con- 
sciously and deliberately seeking to do the best for his 
Lord, and is trying to serve him in the store as really 
as in the closet, has most effectually " overcome the 
world." As David did with Goliath, so he beheads 
the world with its own sword ; he takes its employ- 
ments and enjoyments in such a way as to verify the 
poet's words : 

"Did we but use it as we ought, 
The world would school each waud'ring thought 
To its high place." 

And the occupations which are to many as the chains 
that bind them down to earth, are to him the wings 
wherewith he soars into fellowship with Jehovah. 

Even this victory over the world, however, cannot 
be gained without the observance by the man of cer- 
tain special seasons for prayer and the study of the 
sacred Scriptures, and it is very rarely won by those 
who are over-driven. If, therefore, there be any be- 
fore me who feel that the work and worry and turmoil 
and excitement of business are interfering with the 
progress of their spiritual life, let me beseech them to 
curtail the business and consecrate it. Let them reso- 
lutely set themselves to do less, and let them do it for 
God. I draw no bow at a venture here. I know that 
there are many among you in this very position. I 
know, too, that at this moment they are saying within 
themselves, "It is all very well to say curtail, but 
how is it to be done ? " and so they are dismissing the 
counsel which I offer. But if an illness came upon 



342 



UNCONSCIOUS DETEBIOBATION* 



them, it would be done — that which they regard as ab- 
solutely impossible at present would become possible, 
if they were entirely laid aside. Yet it cannot be ac- 
complished when the soul only is in the case ! which 
means simply that the soul is of much less importance 
to them than the body ; and if that is so, then the grey 
hairs are not merely here and there upon them ; they 
are all over them, and the backsliding has come near to 
apostasy. Brethren, the medical men of the day have 
uttered many a warning against over-work, founded on 
its effects on the physical system ; but we think too lit- 
tle of the results which it has upon the spiritual health. 
Will you give good heed to the honest, faithful, and 
friendly words which I have now uttered, lest you too 
should furnish an illustration of the Saviour's words ? 
"That which fell among thorns are they which, when 
they have heard, go forth, and are choked with cares, 
and riches, and pleasures of this life, and bring no 
fruit to perfection." 

The fact that we are on the threshold of another* 
vacation gives a special appropriateness to these re- 
marks ; for during these weeks of rest and of absence 
from home we shall have an opportunity of revising 
our course of life. Things will look differently to us 
when we stand out and apart from the immediate sur- 
roundings of our daily engagements. The perspective 
will be rectified, and if we find that we have been over- 
laying the spiritual by the temporal, we shall have an 
opportunity when we return of beginning anew on the 
true principle of letting our moderation be known unto 
all men. But, if any one among us has to-day discov- 
ered his deterioration, let him not wait a single mo- 



* This discourse was preached just before the summer vacation of 
1879. 



UNCONSCIOUS DETERIORATION. 



343 



ment for restoration. Let him go at once to the Lord 
Jesus and make this petition, " Take away all my 
iniquity and receive me graciously." Then shall the 
answer come, " I will heal your backsliding, I will 
love you freely." And he will find that he can sing, 
" He restoreth my soul, he leadeth me in the paths of 
righteousness, for his name's sake." 



THE POWER OP GOD'S GENTLENESS. 

Psalm xviii. 35. — " Thy gentleness hath made me great/' 

The occasion on which this psalm was written is set 
forth with sufficient distinctness in its title, and the 
place which it holds in the second book of Samuel, 
near the end of David's history,* seems to indicate that 
it was composed by him in what may be called the 
evening twilight of his life, as he looked back on the 
checkered career through which he had been brought. 
It is thus the grateful utterance of his heart for God's 
goodness to him, and it comes welling up from the 
very depths of his soul. 

But we may not forget that David was led through 
the experiences of his history, and inspired to give 
utterance to his feelings under them in strains like 
these, for others' sake as well as for his own. He sang 
out of his own heart, indeed, but the language of his 
song is such that almost every child of God, in some 
chapter of his life, is able to appropriate it as his 
own ; for, even as Paul's conversion was such that in 
him Jesus Christ might show forth all long suffering 
for a pattern to them who should thereafter believe in 
him, so David's vicissitudes of experience fitted him 
to be a leader of song to God's people in every after 
age. Thus it is that the Christian finds those emo- 
tions, which in him are struggling to get expression, 
already uttered in the book of Psalms, and that to the 



* 2 Samuel xxii. 

344 



THE POWER OF GOD's GENTLENESS. 



345 



music of a harp so sweet, that as he listens he seems 
for the time to hear the melody of heaven, and the 
evil spirit that before oppressed him takes its depart- 
ure from his soul. 

No one can glance, even in the most hasty manner, 
over this divine song, without observing the recogni- 
tion of God's hand in all things by which it is per- 
vaded. That sentiment enters in one form or other 
into almost every verse, and sometimes, as in the phrase 
before us, it is expressed so beautifully that, as we 
read the words, we are thrilled as if by some magnetic 
influence. Who has not often dwelt in thought on 
this precious saying ? As, after we have heard a sweet 
strain of music, we keep going over and over again to 
ourselves some especially pleasing portion of it ; or 
as, when we have gazed a while on a gorgeous land- 
scape, our eyes rest at length on some object of sur- 
passing loveliness within it ; so, after we have perused 
this Psalm, we return again and again to the words of 
the text. They fall on the ear like the soft breathing 
of an iEolian harp, and they linger there with a per- 
manence that earthly music knows not. Many gems 
flash out upon us from this book of praise, but to me 
there are few with a radiance so bright as that which 
comes from this one, " Thy gentleness hath made me 
great." Its very lustre, however, is an embarrass- 
ment, for my fear is that I may dim it by my merest 
touch. Nevertheless, even at that risk, let me attempt 
to bring out before you something of that preciousness 
which I have discovered in it for myself. 

And, at the very outset, we find rising out of these 
words the question, what is that greatness which in 
the Christian is produced by God's gentleness? 
Scarcely two individuals have the same idea of great- 
15* 



346 THE POWER OE GOD'S GENTLENESS. 



ness. All, indeed, will agree that it denotes pre-emi- 
nence, but each will have his own preference as to 
the department in which that is to be manifested. 
Some associate it with the deeds of the warrior on 
the battle-field, and others with the triumphs of the 
orator in the senate ; some identify it with the achieve- 
ments of the artist, and others with the creations of 
the poet. Some restrict it to the department of 
science or philosophy ; while, in the view of others, 
it is connected mainly with the acquisition of wealth, 
or the attainment of rank and power. But the great- 
ness which God's gentleness produces is a different 
thing from any of these. It may co-exist, indeed, with 
many of them, but it is distinct from them all. It is 
excellence in that for which especially man was orig- 
inally created. Now, as we learn from Scripture that 
man was made in the image of God, it follows that 
men are great in the proportion in which they are 
like him. But wherein consists the greatness of God? 
Ask those who are nearest him and know him best, 
and they will reply, while they continue their song, 
"Holy! Holy! Holy! Lord, God Almighty." The 
greatness of manhood, therefore, is greatness in holi- 
ness. It is a moral thing, for the truest manliness and 
the highest godlikeness are convertible terms. 

This holds true, no matter what may be the position 
in society which a man may hold, or what may be the 
work which he is called to perform. Be it even the 
meanest menial office that he is required to fill, he who 
is holy in the discharge of its duties is always great ; 
while, though he should sit upon a throne, or be reck- 
oned by the multitudes among the heroes of the land, 
he who is unholy is destitute of that which alone is 
greatness in the eye of heaven. 

Take, for example here, the character of our Lord 



THE POWER OP GOD'S GENTLENESS. 347 



Jesus Christ. Is there any one who imagines that his 
greatness was lessened by the facts that he labored at 
the carpenter's bench, and was one of the poorest of 
the people ? Not among warriors, poets, artists, states- 
men, or the like, do we name him ; yet, even in the 
estimation of those who deny his deity, he is regarded 
as the greatest of men. "Why ? Because of his pre- 
eminence in holiness. In him every moral excellence 
dwelt in its normal measure. No one of them was 
shaded or eclipsed by another, but all of them were 
held in perfect equilibrium ; and such is the impres- 
sion produced upon us by the splendor of his character 
that, though in point of intellect he stands above all 
who have ever worn our nature, and though he was a 
worker of miracles, we seldom think either of his men- 
tal ability or of his supernatural power. Now, true 
greatness in man is precisely what it was in him, who, 
because he was the God-man, was the archetypal man. 
It is moral excellence, the greatness of character, pre- 
eminence in holiness — a greatness, this, which owes its 
lustre to no accidental circumstances or outward acces- 
sories, like those which give importance to rank on 
earth, but which has in itself the elements of immor- 
tal glory, and is such that no external meanness can 
obscure its radiance, and no blaze of earthly glory can 
outshine its brightness. 

Take any kind of worldly pre-eminence you choose 
to name, and you will see how this asserts its suprem- 
acy. Do you speak of the prowess of the warrior? 
Then "greater is he that ruleth his spirit than he that 
taketh a city ; " and when, as in the case of such a one 
as Havelock, the two are combined, the glory of the 
hero is almost forgotten in our perception of the saint- 
liness of the man. Do you refer to oratory ? Then, 
what eloquence is more potent than the life of a good 



348 



THE POWEB OE GOD*S GENTLENESS. 



man? Is it not true that character gives weight to the 
words even of a stammering tongue ? and, in the case 
of such a man as Wilberforce, is not the fact that he 
was an orator almost lost sight of in our contemplation 
of those results which were due to the Christian ele- 
ments of his disposition ? Talk you of the skill of the 
artist with brush or chisel ? Then what is that to his 
who, on the rude canvas of daily life, and with such 
brush and colors as circumstances supply, reproduces 
before our eyes a living likeness of the Lord he loves ? 
Or are you enamored of the poet's greatness? Then, 
is it not a nobler thing to live poetry than to write it 
— to have the actions of every day building up an epic 
that shall tell of Paradise Regained within the soul ? 
What is the greatness of the philosopher to his whose 
life is devoted to the practical application of principles 
which philosophy alone could never reach ? What are 
the riches of the wealthy to the treasures which the 
holy man carries in his heart and has laid up for him 
above ? and what are the trappings of rank in com- 
parison with the beauty of a character that is moulded 
after the image of Jesus Christ by the power of God's 
Holy Spirit ? Brethren, here is a worthy ambition for 
you. If you want greatness, aim after holiness ; for 
with that the Galilean fishermen who first preached 
the gospel of the kingdom were more exalted than the 
mightiest of the Caesars. 

There is no full-rounded greatness without holiness, 
no matter how high the man may stand in other de- 
partments. We may admit the pre-eminence of Nelson 
as an admiral, but if we should attempt to call him a 
great man, the memory of Lady Hamilton would come 
up before us to prevent our desecration of the words- 
And though they called him the first gentleman in 
Europe, no power is strong enough to force the term 



THE POWEE OE GOD's GENTLENESS. 



349 



great into fitting fellowship with the name of George 
the Fourth. Nobody denies the genius of Byron as a 
poet ; indeed there is a stage in the mental history of 
most of us when he holds us as by some potent spell ; 
but who would think of calling him great, with the 
greatness of a full-rounded man? While, on the other 
hand, the poverty of Bunyan in his Bedford " cage " 
could not conceal the greatness of the man of God, and 
the fact that Carey was a cobbler could not blind even 
the eyes of his assailants to the consecration of his 
life. 

Thus, whatever our outward sphere may be, to be 
truly great we must have an inward character of holi- 
ness manifesting itself in all our actions ; and he will 
be the greatest who, wherever he may be, is likest 
Christ. Some years ago a poor Spanish sailor was 
brought into a Liverpool hospital to die, and, after he 
had breathed his last, there was found upon his breast 
tattooed, after the manner of his class, a representation 
of Christ upon the cross. You call that superstition, 
and perhaps you are right ; yet there was beauty in it 
too, for if we could have in our hearts what that poor 
seaman had painfully, and with the needle point, punc- 
tured over his, we should be great indeed. Is not this, 
in truth, the open secret of Paul's pre-eminence ? for 
he thus describes himself : " Always bearing about in 
the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life 
also of Jesus may be manifest in our body." The 
manifestation of the life of Jesus: that is greatness, 
and to get that we must bear about in the body "the 
dying of the Lord." 

But I have been anticipating somewhat the second 
question that comes out of my text, which is, how 
God's gentleness can be said to make us great. It 



350 THE POWER OF GOD'S GENTLENESS. 

may seem strange that such an effect should be as- 
cribed to gentleness as its cause. But if you will 
think a little on the subject, your surprise will disap- 
pear. For the human heart is always more deeply 
affected by tenderness than by sternness. If you 
want to reform a criminal, you will succeed best by 
adopting the method of gentleness. If you are un- 
bending he will remain unbent ; but if you are full of 
kindness, even while you feel that his crime cannot 
go unpunished, your tenderness will produce a marked 
result. If you wish to drag a man by force, his nature 
is to resist you ; but if you attempt to attract him by 
love, it is equally in his nature to follow you. Now 
God, who has given us this nature, seeks to save us 
in accordance with it. We are criminals lying under 
sentence of condemnation, and he sends to us a 
message of deliverance willingly wrought out for us 
through the death of his own Son. He proclaims, 
through the cross of Christ, salvation to all who will 
receive it. But what gentleness is here ? Let it be 
remembered that he was under no obligation to save 
men unless he had so chosen. No injustice would 
have been inflicted on any one even if no salvation 
had been provided, and we had been left to the con- 
sequences of our sin. But then, whatever else this 
leaving of sinners to themselves would have done, it 
never could have made men great ; and so, not wish- 
ing that human greatness should disappear from his 
universe, God has manifested his gentleness in the 
mission and work of Jesus Christ, and makes procla- 
mation of pardon and regeneration to every one who 
will accept them through his Son. It is the faith of 
this, which, by the agency of the Holy Spirit, first 
changes the disposition of the heart toward God. The 
thunders of Sinai do but terrify. They make the sin- 



THE POWER OF GOD'S GENTLENESS. 851 

ner cry out, " Let not God speak to me, lest I die." 
But the manifestation of this love attracts. "Law 
and terrors do but harden," this melts the soul, and 
the believing apprehension of the truth that God in 
Christ loves me, and does not delight in my destruc- 
tion, but willeth rather that I should turn unto him 
and live, moves me to become reconciled to him, and 
to accept his grace ; that is — in other words — his gen- 
tleness produces in me that love to him which is the 
source and inspiration of holiness. 

My hearer, do you believe God loves you and does 
not desire your destruction, but willeth rather that 
you should turn unto him and live ? Not to believe 
that is to turn away from his whole gospel, is to treat 
his Word as if it were a lie, is to count the work 
of his Son as nothing. To believe that is to believe 
the gospel in its application to you, is to enter 
into peace, and to have enkindled in your heart the 
spark of love in which the flame of holiness ever 
begins. Why will you doubt it ? Why will you insist 
on viewing J ehovah as a harsh, austere, and relentless 
one ? To think so of him is to do him the foulest dis- 
honor. He is a loving Father, if only you will let him 
love you. Yea, as Luther has it, " You are living now 
under the broad and ample canopy of God's forgiving 
love," and all you have to do is to open your heart 
to let its blessed influence enter in. Will you do 
that ? Then you will be attracted to him, and you 
will be constrained by the love of Christ to live en- 
tirely for him — that is, his " gentleness will make you 
great." 

But, passing from the general to the particular, you 
may see the words of the text verified in the manner 
in which God receives individuals into his love, and 
so begins in them the greatness of holiness. And 



352 THE POWEE OF GOD'S GENTLENESS. 

here I may take the recorded history of Jesus Christ, 
when he was on the earth, as illustrating the manner 
in which God receiveth back again his banished chil- 
dren ; for he was God, the living embodiment of the 
Father, according as he said himself, " He that hath 
seen me hath seen the Father." How then was it 
with him in this regard ? The reproach of his ene- 
mies was " this man receiveth sinners." He was gra- 
cious even to the world's outcasts, and those who had 
been hardened by the scorn and oppression of their 
fellow-men, were treated by him with the utmost ten- 
derness. Think of the words he uttered in defence 
of the weeping penitent, when the haughty Simon 
looked the scorn he dared not speak in such a presence. 
Remember the gentleness which he showed to her 
whom the Pharisees dragged into his presence as he 
sat teaching in the Temple, and to whom, after send- 
ing her accusers out, each one with an arrow quiver- 
ing in his conscience, he said, " Neither do I condemn 
thee ; go and sin no more." Recall his long and earn- 
est conversation with the woman at the well, and you 
will see in each of these cases an illustration of the 
triumphs which his love achieved. Or, if you would 
see it in another light, behold how he received Mco- 
demus when that ruler came to him by night. He 
spoke to him faithfully and earnestly, and clearly set 
before him the necessity, even for him, of the new 
birth. But no harsh things were said to him con- 
cerning his cowardice. Had there been, it is at least 
questionable if ever we would have heard again of 
Mcodemus. But behold the result of the course which 
he did adopt in the greatness manifested by the Jew- 
ish ruler on that day, when, though all the follow- 
ers of Jesus, with one exception, had forsaken him, he 
declared himself at the foot of the cross. 



THE POWEK OF GOd's GENTLENESS. 



353 



Now, what the Lord was then, he is still. "The 
bruised reed he does not break ; the smoking flax he 
does not quench ;" and there is no one here whom he 
will not willingly and lovingly receive. Kead those 
gentle and beneficent words which fell so frequently 
from his lips. Peruse such parables as that of the lost 
sheep, or that of the prodigal son. Kecall such gra- 
cious utterances as these : " The Son of man came not 
to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his 
life a ransom for many ;" " The Son of man is come to 
seek and to save that which was lost ; " " Come unto me 
all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give 
you rest ; " " Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise 
cast out." Ah ! who can tell how many have been en- 
couraged to go to him by such declarations and invita- 
tions as these? And now, as they revert to the first 
faint stirrings of the new life in them which these 
words evoked, they can say with truth, " Thy gentle- 
ness hath made us great." 

But, going into another department, the truth of my 
text is made apparent also in the manner in which God 
in Christ Jesus trains his people after they have come 
to him. He does not leave them to themselves. He 
teaches them yet more and more of his grace ; yet, in 
truest tenderness, he teaches them as they are able to 
bear it. He watches over them with the closest obser- 
vation, and whenever they are prone to wander from 
him there comes some fatherly discipline from his 
hand. At first they may be inclined to think of it as 
something stern ; but, by and by, when the peaceable 
fruits of righteousness have made their appearance, 
they discover its real character, and perceive that it, 
too, is an expression of his gentleness. He stirs up 
their nest indeed, and with apparent roughness drives 
them out of it ; but, ere they kuow where they are, they 



354 



THE POWEE OF GOD*S GENTLENESS. 



are borne aloft on the ample wings of his grace to 
loftier heights than otherwise they could have reached, 
so that they say, "This also cometh from a father's 
heart." Look how the Lord Jesus trained his dis- 
ciples. Gentleness was ever uppermost in his inter- 
course with them. He did reprove them, indeed ; but 
the severity of his reproof lay in the love which was 
beneath it, and in their after lives we see the greatness 
which this discipline developed. 

But the same thing comes out in God's dealings with 
his people now. Sometimes, indeed, he deprives them 
of worldly possessions or beloved friends, but he does 
so only that they may be stimulated to grow in grace ; 
and there is usually, in the concomitants of their trial, 
something to remind them of his love. " He stayeth 
his rough wind in the day of his east wind:" and, if 
the thorn of trial may not be extracted, there comes 
the precious assurance, "My grace is sufficient for 
thee ; my strength is made perfect in weakness." How 
often have we had such experiences ! Even when we 
have been most sorely smitten, there has come to us 
some view of his character or some promise of his 
Word which has made us feel that he had not forgotten 
us. And when, under his chastening dispensation, we 
have turned to him, how full of love was his reception 
of us. Thus, all through our lives, his gentleness is 
the background of all our discipline ; and when earth 
is exchanged for heaven, and we stand perfected in 
holiness before the throne, looking back upon the way 
by which he led us, and marking the infinite love which 
called us out of the world at the first, the unwearied 
patience which bore with all our follies and transgres- 
sions, the tenderness which cherished us in every 
emergency, and the grace that supported us through 
death, we shall be able to understand all that is implied 



THE POWER OF GOd's GENTLENESS. 355 

in this beautiful text, and we shall sing, as we could 
never sing on earth, " Thy gentleness hath made me 
great." 

The subject which I have thus imperfectly outlined 
has a twofold application. 

It presents Jehovah to the sinner in a very affection- 
ate attitude. Think of it, my friend. God is tender 
toward you. How often you have provoked him with 
your iniquities, your ingratitude, your procrastination ! 
Yet he has not cut you down. You are living evidences 
of his gentleness ; and even as he looks upon you now 
he says, as he did long ago to Israel, " How shall I give 
thee up, Ephraim ? How shall I deliver thee, Israel ? 
How shall I make thee as Admah ? How shall I set 
thee as Zeboim ? Mine heart is turned within me ; 
my repentings are kindled together." How can you 
resist such affectionate tenderness as that ? What are 
your hearts made of that such longing to deliver you 
makes no impression on them ? Behold how Jesus 
weeps upon the brow of Olivet over the hardened im- 
penitence of Jerusalem ! Not until everything that 
wisdom and gentleness could do was done to prevent 
it was its doom pronounced, and even then it was 
pronounced with tears. What a sight have we there, 
through the manhood of Jesus, into the gentleness of 
the heart of God ! Let, I pray you, the goodness of 
God lead you to repentance, and beware of despising 
the riches of his forbearance, for there is a limit beyond 
which that forbearance will not last, and there will be 
nothing but punishment, all the heavier because you 
have slighted so much grace. 

Finally, this subject shows the Christian how he 
should seek to bring others to the knowledge of Jesus. 
The gentleness of God should be repeated and repro- 
duced in us, and we should deal with others with the 



356 



THE POWER OF GOD 5 S GENTLENESS, 



same tenderness and affection as God has dealt with 
us. 

Parents, this text speaks to you, and bids you seek 
the greatness, that is, the godly up-bringing of your 
children, not by rigorous, unbending sternness, but in 
tender forbearance. Do not harshly thrust them from 
you for every fault, nor even for serious faults let your- 
selves be tempted to such treatment of them as is only 
fitted to stiffen them in their rebellion against you. 
You have heard of the mother who, as she was sitting 
on the brow of a hill, suffered her child, unnoticed, to 
wander from her side, until he stood upon the very 
edge of the beetling cliff. She was appalled when she 
discovered where he was, but her maternal instinct 
would not let her shriek. All she did was to open her 
arms and beckon him to her embrace, and the little 
fellow, unconscious of the danger in which he stood, 
ran to be folded to her bosom. So let it be with you. 
"When you see your young people standing on some 
precipice of temptation, do not scold or blame or cry out 
about it ; that will only push them over. Bather open 
to them the arms of your affection. Make home to 
them more attractive than aught else. Let your fath- 
erhood and motherhood become more to them than 
ever, and by your very gentleness you will make them 
great. 

Sabbath-school teacher, this text speaks to you, and 
bids you, in your earnest efforts for your scholars' 
welfare, show to them the same gentleness that Jesus 
manifested when he took the children in his arms and 
blessed them. Do not lose your temper with them. 
Do not by your hard words, or hard way of saying 
even kind words, make yourself and your lesson alike 
repulsive to them. When you have to reprove them, 
let sorrow be more apparent than anger ; so shall your 



THE POWEE OF GOD'S GENTLENESS. 357 



words distil into their hearts as softly as the dew-drop 
crystallizes on a blade of grass. 

Pastor, there is here a message for thee too, and 
thou art commanded to be among thy people as Paul 
was among the Thessalonians — "gentle even as a 
nurse cherishing her children : " and to beware lest, by 
a careless or unthinking word, thou sendest away one 
whom a loving speech might have won for Jesus. 

Yea, there is here a lesson for us all. Let us remem- 
ber that 

"All worldly joys go less 
To the one joy of doing kindnesses;" 

and let us tremble with a holy fear lest we should, by 
our repulsiveness, scare some poor soul away from the 
loving Saviour, who is always willing to receive the 
wanderer. When we are called to deal with the sinful 
and the sorrowful, let us imitate the example of the 
Lord, and to this end let us more thoroughly imbibe 
his Spirit. Nor let us forget that in our own sins we 
have a motive for the exercise of gentleness which even 
he did not possess ; for he had no need to ask forbear- 
ance of others, while we are continually making de- 
mands on the long-suffering of our fellows. Be gen- 
tle, therefore. Be gentle everywhere, and no matter 
how degraded those may be with whom you come into 
contact, let no harsh-heartedness be shown by you. 
They are not so far from you as you were from Christ 
when he became your Saviour ; therefore let the mem- 
ory of Jesus at the well repress all sternness, and let 
your faithfulness be inspired by love. 

' ' Forget not thou hast often sinned, 
And sinful yet must be ; 
Deal gently with the erring one, 
As God has dealt with thee." 



EMPTIED FROM VESSEL TO VESSEL. 



Jeremiah xlviii. 11. — "Moab hath been at ease from his youth, 
and he hath settled on his lees, and hath not been emptied from 
vessel to vesse] , neither hath he gone into captivity ; therefore his 
taste remained in him, and his scent is not changed. " * 

The illustration used in this verse is taken from the 
manner in which wine is prepared. The juice of the 
grape, at first thick and impure, is allowed to ferment. 
Then it is left for a time undisturbed, until a sediment, 
here called "lees," is precipitated. After that it is 
drawn off into another vessel so carefully that all the 
matter so precipitated is left behind, and this empty- 
ing of it "from vessel to vessel" is repeated again 
and again, until the offensive odor that came at first 
from the "must" is gone, and it becomes clear and 
beautiful. 

Now, by the analogy of this process, familiar even 
to the common people of a vine-growing country, the 
prophet accounts for the character and condition of 
Moab as a nation. In the providence of God nothing 
had come to unsettle that people. No external enemy 
had attacked them. No great national disaster had 
ever fallen on them. Nothing had come to rouse them 

* It is due to myself to say that the topic of this discourse was 
suggested to me first by a sermon of Dr. Bushnell, in The New Life ; 
but I have not considered that a sufficient reason for withholding it 
from publication. The true history of the matter is, that the ser- 
mon here presented to the reader was born out of an attempt to ap- 
ply the principles of Dr. B.'s discourse to my own heart in a time of 
great domestic affliction. 

358 



EMPTIED FROM VESSEL TO VESSEL. 



359 



to exertion. For these reasons they had made no 
progress. What they had been at first that they had 
continued to be, because they had been all along " at 
ease," with nothing to cause either "searchings of 
heart " or depression of spirit among them. 

To all this, though there is no expressed allusion to 
it in the text, the history of Israel was in remarkable 
contrast. The Hebrews had never been allowed to 
remain long undisturbed. Their very exodus from 
Egypt only resulted at first in their wanderings 
through the wilderness ; and even after they had re- 
ceived possession of the Land of Promise, they had 
no immunity from unsettlement. Indeed their entire 
national history is almost a perpetual alternation be- 
tween prosperity and disturbance. At one time they 
groaned under the yoke of some oppressor ; at another 
they rejoiced in the deliverance which, by the instru- 
mentality of some "mighty man of valor," the Lord 
had wrought for them. Under one king they delighted 
in the blessings of peace ; under another they endured 
all the agonies of war. In one age they passed 
through the crisis of a revolution which rent the king- 
dom in twain ; in another they were subjected to all 
the discomfort and humiliation of exile. Thus they 
were " emptied from vessel to vessel," and so we ac- 
count for the fact that, in the main, they grew in all 
the qualities which give greatness to nations, and were 
at last completely purified from the "lees" of that 
idolatry which had so long tainted them in the sight 
of God. 

But the same thing holds in individuals, and we may 
lay it down as a principle of universal application that 
a man needs to be frequently disturbed and displaced 
by the dispensations of God's providence, if he would 
grow in all the elements of that greatness which con- 



360 



EMPTIED FROM VESSEL TO VESSEL. 



sists in holiness. To remain " at ease," to " settle on 
the lees," is fatal to spiritual advancement. That is 
the general law. Now, on the threshold of our inves- 
tigation, let us pause a moment to see what this in- 
volves. 

For one thing, it gives what may well be called a 
solemn significance to all true prayers for holiness. 
How few of us, when we make request that we may 
" grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and 
Saviour Jesus Christ," have any right idea of all that 
the answer to that petition may involve ! Is it not 
true of most of us, when we offer that supplication, 
that we imagine that God will give us what we desire 
in some sudden fashion, and confer the blessing upon 
us as an objective thing, "ready made," and all at 
once ? But in the light of such a text as this, that is 
seen to be a delusion. Character is not like a gar- 
ment, which may be made for us and given to us in a 
brief season. It is a growth within, before it is an 
appearance without. It is not a thing which God 
gives to a man in a moment, as an external possession. 
It is the fruit of a refining discipline, the result, like 
the wine in the text, of a process, and not like that of 
Cana, of a momentary and miraculous transmutation. 
But, not to mix metaphors, and going back to the illus- 
tration of growth : let us, to prevent misapprehension, 
distinguish between the beginning and the progress. 
There is a moment when the seed is planted ; and, 
whether we can always detect it or not, the new life 
has always a beginning, but the germination of the 
seed is a thing of time and culture. It is the result 
of the use of means employed on us by God himself, 
and among these are the providential "emptyings from 
vessel to vessel," to which the prophet here refers. 
When, therefore, we ask to be made holy, it becomes 



EMPTIED FKOM VESSEL TO VESSEL. 



361 



us to remember that many imsettlements in life may 
be required for the working out of that character in 
us, and that we are virtually requesting that God 
would never let us be so long "at ease " that we shall 
settle on our lees ; but that, whenever he sees it to be 
necessary for us, he would dislodge us from one point 
to another, until at length, in the last " emptying " 
process, at death, we shall lose all trace of impurity, 
and stand before him among " the spirits of just men 
made perfect." 

Then turning this thought and looking at it from 
the other side, we have here explained to us the reason 
why we are, as we phrase it, so frequently " upset" in 
life. We complain that we are never allowed to be- 
come " settled." Ever, as we think we have reached 
some place of rest, there comes a new upheaval to 
shake us up and out, so that we cry, " Is there to be no 
end of these changes?" and we sympathize with him 
who said, " Settled in life ! As well talk of a ship as 
settled in the midst of the ever-restless, ever-change- 
ful ocean, as talk of a man being settled in life." But, 
in the light of this verse, such repeated disturbance is 
recognized as a blessing, and that which in our unbe- 
lief we are disposed to call our heaviest calamity is 
seen to be the means of securing our highest good. 

I. But, not to linger longer over generalities, let us 
see if we can discover what there is in these " empty- 
ings " that fits them to promote our spiritual advance- 
ment. 

1. And, in the first place, it is obvious that such dis- 
pensations have in them an influence which is well 
calculated to reveal us to ourselves. Too often we are 
ignorant of the plague of our own hearts until, under 
some such afflictive visitation, we are led to examine 
16 



362 EMPTIED FROM YESSEL TO YESSEL. 

ourselves, and to say with Job, " Show me wherefore 
thou contendest with me." The evil may have been 
of long standing, while yet, because of its blunting in- 
fluence on the conscience, we may have been unaware 
of its existence until the fiery trial brought it into 
view. Sudden emergency is a sure opener of a man's 
eyes to his own defects. He may contrive to get on, 
in seasons of prosperity and outward calm, without 
becoming conscious of the weak points of his charac- 
ter ; but let him be thrown, all at once, upon his own 
resources by the coming upon him of some crushing 
calamity, and he will then find out whether he has 
that within him that can stand the strain that has 
been put upon him. It was a shrewd remark of An- 
drew Fuller, that " a man has only as much religion 
as he can command in the day of trial \ " and if he 
have no religion at all, his trouble will make that man- 
ifest to him. There is nothing, indeed, in the suffering, 
in itself considered, to give him spiritual strength ; for 
that he must go out of himself to God in Jesus Christ ; 
but if he cares to look, it will faithfully show him 
what he is and wherein he is defective. He will feel 
himself to be like a ship in a storm, and he will be 
impelled to run for some harbor of refuge. Thus it is 
that worldly unsettlements, in the shape of business 
failures, or family bereavements, or personal afflictions, 
or perplexities as to the path of duty have so fre- 
quently led up to a man's conversion. The soul, in 
such crises, has felt that there was no help for it but 
in God. The temporal trial has revealed the spiritual 
helplessness, and that again has stirred the man to 
repair to Christ for that which he requireSo "The 
truth is," says a practical writer, "we never feel 
Christ to be a reality until we feel him to be a neces- 
sity. He tries us here, and he tries us there. He 



EMPTIED FROM VESSEL TO VESSEL. 363 

chastens us on this side, and he chastens us on that 
side,"* until, thrown back upon ourselves and finding 
nothing there, we are driven to cast ourselves on him. 

But it is in the same way that a man is trained in 
holiness after he has come to Christ. Just as the 
strain of the storm tells where the ship is weakest, and 
stirs up the mariner to have it strengthened there, so 
the pressure of trial reveals the defects of character 
which still adhere to the Christian. One afiliction 
may disclose an infirmity of temper ; another may 
discover a weakness of faith ; a third may make it evi- 
dent that the power of some old habit is not yet en- 
tirely broken ; and thus, from this constant revelation 
to him of the evils that still remain in him, he is led, 
under the guidance of the Holy Ghost, to the attain- 
ment of a higher measure of holiness than otherwise 
he could have reached. Paradoxical as it may appear, 
the occurrence of a railway accident now and then has 
led to most of the improvements in railway travelling, 
because it has directed attention to the weak places, 
and evoked immediate effort to prevent the recurrence 
of the evil. Now much in the same way our spirit- 
ual " breaks-down " under the unsettlements of God's 
providence make manifest to us the deficiencies of our 
souls. They show us what we have been neglecting. 
They turn our vigilance to new points in our character, 
and the issue is our growth in holiness. We learn 
from our very defeats how we are ultimately to win 
the victory. Our very falls teach us how we are to 
stand, and the strain of trial shows us where our 
character needs strength. 

2. But, in the second place, I think it is obvious 
that the frequent unsettlements which come upon us 



* The Still Hour, by Rev. Austin Phelps, D.D., p. 133. 



364 



EMPTIED FEOM YESSEL TO VESSEL. 



in God's providence have a tendency to shake us out 
of ourselves. This follows as a necessary inference 
from what I have just said ; for the more correctly we 
are revealed to ourselves, the less will we be tempted 
to lean upon ourselves. But, though it is implied in 
what I have already advanced, it is so important as to 
demand separate consideration. The essence of sin is 
self-preference. We will take our own way rather than 
God's. We will make our own plans, as if only our- 
selves were to be consulted. We will follow our own 
inclinations, without pausing to consider whether they 
are right, or what shall be the issue. Now, what a 
corrective to this idolatry of self is administered by 
these providential dispensations, which, coming as all 
such things do, unexpectedly, unsettle all our engage- 
ments, disarrange all our plans, and disappoint all our 
calculations. We find that where we thought ourselves 
wise we have been supremely foolish. Where we imag- 
ined that we had taken all possible contingencies into 
the account, we discover that we had left no place for 
God. So our most matured schemes have been abor- 
tive, our most cherished hopes have been blasted ; yea, 
just when we conceived that now at length we had 
reached our ultimatum, and were beginning to con- 
gratulate ourselves on the prospect of repose, there 
came a sudden reverse, which emptied us out again, 
and we were compelled to begin anew. Thus we are 
brought to distrust ourselves. We find that it will not 
do to " lean " always " to our own understanding." By 
many bitter failures we are made to acknowledge that 
"it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps," and 
then by the Spirit of God we are led up to confidence 
in Jehovah. We are glad to cry with David, " Show 
me thy ways, O Lord ; teach me thy paths. Lead me 
in thy truth and teach me : for thou art the God of my 



EMPTIED FROM VESSEL TO VESSEL. 



365 



salvation; on thee do I wait all the day." We put our 
hand trustfully in the Lord's and depend no more on 
our own wisdom, but on his. The discovery of our 
blindness makes us cry for some one to be our guide, 
and the painful remembrance of many sorrows pro- 
duced by our self-will disposes us to say, 

' ' I would not have the restless will 

That hurries to and fro ; . 
Seeking for some great thing to do, 

Or secret thing to know. 
I would be treated as a child, 

And guided where I go." 

How many of us could, from our own histories, con- 
firm all that I have now said ! In the outset of our 
career we had, perhaps, grand dreams of high attain- 
ments which we were to reach, and great things which 
we were to do. But we had forgotten to take account 
of the superintending providence of God, and so one 
after another of our schemes had to be modified or 
given up, and to-day we are very different from that 
which ten, twenty, or thirty years ago we supposed 
that we should be now. We think, too, that we are 
worse because of that ; nay, sometimes we may be dis- 
posed to call our life a failure because of that. But 
we are not worse, and our life has not been a failure, 
if we have been taught to see that God has por- 
tioned it out for us, if we have been brought to frame 
all our plans in humble dependence upon him, and if, 
beneath all our purposes as well as prayers, there is 
evermore that spirit of entire trustfulness in his love 
and wisdom that prompts us to say, " Not as we will, 
but as thou wilt." No, my brother, the life has not 
been wasted that has learned that lesson thoroughly ; 
and the soul that lives by filial faith in God is better 
and nobler before him, than is that of the who, 



366 



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without reference to him at al]„ has done the grandest 
things that human skill could contrive or human might 
accomplish. For it is not the work that is done exter- 
nal to us, but that which goes on within us, that makes 
us great or good. Courage, then, my friend ; you may 
have failed to carry out that life programme which 
long ago you drew out for yourself ; but if that failure 
has thrown you back on your discovery that God's 
plan your life was better than your own — if it has 
led you to have now no programme save that of wait- 
ing on and working out the will of God — if it has shat- 
tered your confidence in yourself, and led you to full 
confidence in Christ, then you have not failed after all, 
but you have succeeded in acquiring a character that 
may not be possessed by those whom the world calls 
its successful men. 

For success, as God accounts success, is not the thing 
that people commonly call by that name. There are 
books on Self Help that tell us of the poor lad who 
climb'; d the ladder step by step, until he put his foot 
upon the topmost round, and stood before the world 
as the Lord High Chancellor of England or as the 
President of the United States; and these works, 
rightly used, have a value which I am not here to de- 
preciivoe. But I deny that such a life, or a life framed 
after such a pattern, is the only one that deserves to 
be called successful. Show me the man who tried to 
moun + that ladder, but in the providence of God was 
evermore beat back and beat down ; the man whose 
life has been apparently one long struggle with diffi- 
culties ; the man who has been repeatedly " emptied 
from vessel to vessel," but who, in spite of all, has only 
grown clearer and purer by the process ; who has kept 
his sweetness of disposition toward his fellows, because 
he has increased in his faith toward God; who has 



EMPTIED FROM VESSEL TO VESSEL. 



367 



learned, in and through and by means of all his unset- 
tlenients, to hold more firmly by God's hand, and cling 
more closely to Christ's cross, and walk more in ac- 
cordance with Christ's example, and I tell you that, in 
the highest sense of the word, that man's life has been 
a success, even though to outward appearance there 
has been no accumulation of wealth. We have heard 
enough of the success of the millionaire ; let us hear 
more now of the success of the unsuccessful — yea, of 
the success of soul that sometimes comes through the 
ruin of earthly fortune and the blighting of our fond- 
est plans. Character is nobler than riches or position, 
and the growth of that in holiness and stability ought 
to be the highest aim, as it will be the noblest achieve- 
ment of life. 

3. But, in the third place, I think it is obvious that 
these frequent unsettlements have a tendency to keep 
us from being wedded to the world, or from thinking 
of rooting ourselves permanently here. Some years 
ago, while I was rambling with a friend in the neigh- 
borhood of the English Windermere, we came upon 
a house which was surrounded by the most beautiful 
shrubs I ever saw, and I was naturally led to make 
some inquiry concerning them. My companion, who 
lived in the locality, informed me that, by a judicious 
system of transplanting, constantly pursued, the pro- 
prietor was able to bring them to the highest perfec- 
tion. I am not horticulturist enough to know whether 
that would produce such a result or not, but when I 
heard the statement I thought at once of the manner 
in which God, by continuous transplanting, keeps his 
people fresh and beautiful, and prevents them from 
becoming too closely attached to the world. Its pos- 
sessions are taken from them. Its friends prove faith- 
less to them. Its relationships are broken for them. 



368 EMPTIED FKOM VESSEL TO VESSEL. 

Its joys give way in their experience to sorrows. And 
all this is to keep them from becoming wedded to the 
present life. I cannot agree indeed with those who 
constantly lament the troubles of earth, and speak of 
life as if it were a vale of tears, and nothing more. 
There is happiness here. There is a kind of hap- 
piness, such as it is, enjoyed by the unconverted, and 
there is a high and noble sort of it possessed by the 
Christian. But yet, even in the case of the latter, there 
is enough of unsettlement and disturbance to keep him 
from wishing to be here always. Job was in bitterness 
of soul, and perhaps spoke in his haste, when he said, 
"I loathe it ; I would not live alway." But the true 
Christian, while he would think it sinful to say he 
hates life for any reason whatever, unless when it is 
put in the scale over against his Lord, would yet fully 
endorse the patriarch's other words, and say, " I would 
not live alway." 

Now, everything that tends to disenchant the present 
and to fix our hearts and hopes upon the better world 
must have an ennobling influence upon the soul. John- 
son was not wrong when he said, "Whatever makes the 
past, the distant, or the future predominate over the 
present exalts us in the dignity of thinking beings. " 
But that is precisely what frequent unsettlements in 
the present life, taken in connection with his belief in 
the revelation of heaven's blessedness, do tend to in 
the Christian. Therefore, they cannot but have a holy 
power on the character of the man who views them in 
that connection. The more attractive heaven becomes 
to us the more shall we seek in the present to cultivate 
the heavenly spirit. To be weaned from earth is one 
of the means of making us seek our spiritual food from 
heaven ; and the trials of earth, transplanting us from 
place to place and from plan to plan, tend to prepare 



EMPTIED FROM VESSEL TO VESSEL. 369 

us for the great transplanting which is to take us from 
this world altogether, and root us in the garden of the 
Lord above. 

II. I have dwelt so long on the influences which 
providential unsettlements are fitted to exercise upon 
us that I have left myself but little time to specify the 
particular qualities of character which they are most 
calculated to foster. This, however, is now the less 
necessary, as they have already come incidentally into 
view, I content myself, therefore, with the merest 
allusion to them. 

I name first among them purity of motive and con- 
duct ; and where shall we find a better illustration of 
that than in the history of Jacob ? He began life as 
a supplanter. He out-bargained Esau. He imposed 
on Isaac. He out-generaled Laban. We cannot ad- 
mire him, and we are not drawn to him then. But 
when he lay on his death-bed, no characteristics 
strike ns more than his honesty in dealing with his 
sons, and his sincerity in dealing with his God. And 
how was that transformation wrought? "By the 
Spirit of God," you answer, and you answer well ; but 
I would supplement your statement by putting it 
thus : " by the Spirit of God, through and in connec- 
tion with the frequent unsettlements to which he was 
subjected." Think what these emptyings from vessel 
to vessel were. First, there came the disobedience 
of Simeon and Levi, and the consequent rupture be- 
tween him and the tribe of Hamor ; then came the 
death, in circumstances of peculiar sadness, of his 
beloved Bachel ; that was followed by the mysterious 
disappearance of Joseph, not without suspicion that 
his sons had leagued against him to deceive him ; 
then came the famine, the detention of Judah in Egypt, 
16* 



370 



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and the demand for Benjamin. Each of these was a 
new draining off, which left behind it some of the old 
lees of his former self, and so purified him that he 
could say at last, " I have waited for thy salvation, O 
God." And what is that mellowing which we see in 
so many Christians far advanced in life, but just a 
specimen of the same thing ? You cannot reach that 
maturity at a bound. There is a certain effect on wine 
which only age can produce ; and there is here an ef- 
fect on character which requires a whole series of 
providential displacements to bring it about. 

Then, again, these " changes and surprises," as they 
have been called, tend to foster strength, either for 
endurance or for action. Take for example, here, the 
case of Abraham. As you see him ascend Moriah, 
with the full purpose of laying his son upon the altar, 
you marvel at the might of his faith and the firmness 
of his determination. But your wonder diminishes 
when you discover that he had been in training for 
that triumph almost from that first "emptying" time, 
when it was said to him, " Get thee out of thy country, 
and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house, 
unto a land that I will show thee." Never for long at 
a time was he left to settle "on his lees." He was 
tried in Canaan and in Egypt ; he was tested by the 
long delay in the fulfilment of the promise in regard 
to Isaac, and by the domestic discord that arose con- 
cerning Ishmael ; and his wrestlings with these afflic- 
tions developed in him, by the grace of God, that 
spiritual might in which he conquered on the Mount 
of the Lord, when he earned for himself the title of 
"the father of the faithful." 

But it is in this way that God trains his people yet. 
They are disciplined by him into strength through re- 
sistance to temptation, or by the endurance of suffer- 



EMPTIED FROM VESSEL TO VESSEL. 37l 

ing. Those are the most heroic Christians who have 
been the most frequently unsettled, and to whom God, 
in his providence, has given the least measure of ease. 
The veteran soldier who has been in many fights can 
stand fire in the crisis of some decisive day better than 
the raw recruit, who has never before been on a battle- 
field; and the "Old Guard" in the army of the Cap- 
tain of our salvation is composed of those who have 
learned, by repeated experience, " how sublime a thing 
it is to suffer and be strong." 

But we must not forget to mention further, here, 
that the recurrence of these "emptying" processes 
deepens the sympathy and widens the charity of the 
Christian. Indeed I hazard the assertion that no man 
can be called complete in character who has not been 
subjected to them. It is in this very relation that 
our Lord himself is said to have been " made perfect 
through suffering," and each of us has doubtless had 
an experience of his own which enables him to under- 
stand what seems at first so strange. Did not every 
new trial through which you passed help you to com- 
prehend better than you did before the bearing of some 
friend when a similar affliction fell on him? You 
made light of his case at the time ; yea, perhaps you 
said some bitter or severe things about the way in 
which he bore himself under his burden. Possibly 
you even went the length of casting suspicion on the 
genuineness of his piety. But now that you have had 
your own " unsettlement," how heartily ashamed you 
are of all that you then felt and said ! You would not 
repeat your cynical utterances again ; yea, you would 
give much if you were able to recall them, and, if ever 
you see another in his case, you will not pass upon 
him the same uncharitable judgment. You have 
^ teamed from your own " to melt at others' woe." You 



372 EMPTIED EBOM VESSEL TO VESSEL. 



have been taught by your own case to make allowance 
for and charitably to put the best construction on the 
apparent weakness of another. Experience is thus 
the mother of sympathy and charity. In this way we 
explain the fact that very young Christians are com- 
monly the least charitable toward those who do not 
come up to their standard, and the least able to mani- 
fest intelligent sympathy with the suffering. They 
make too much of seeming faults and too little of real 
distress, just because they have not themselves been 
yet called to pass through the unsettling process 
under which others have appeared to fail. The older 
a Christian grows he learns to feel for others more, 
and to condemn them less, and he is a true " son of 
consolation" only in the proportion in which he is 
able to comfort them which are in any trouble by the 
comfort wherewith he himself is comforted of God. 
Twenty years ago I should never have been drawn to 
this text, and could have given no very appreciative 
explanation of its meaning; but the providence of 
God, in the interval, has written, many times over, a 
commentary on it over my own heart ; and if to-day I 
have been enabled to read that off correctly for your 
comfort and edification, to him be all the praise. 

What I have been saying, then, all tends toward 
these two propositions, namely, that unbroken pros- 
perity would be a curse to a man, and not a blessing ; 
and that providential unsettlements, when rightly in- 
terpreted and improved, are really favors, though they 
do come draped in sadness. I am not sure, indeed, that 
there is in any human lot such a thing as absolutely 
unalloyed prosperity ; but wherever there has been so 
little trial that a man has " settled on his lees," his 
success has been a positive injury to him. On the 



EMPTIED FKOM VESSEL TO VESSEL. 373 



other hand, when afflictions occurring in God's provi- 
dence are so understood and applied as to lead us to 
advancement in holiness, they are then blessings in 
deed. 

And now I must conclude. I have spoken, I am 
sure, to the hearts of many this morning. I hope I 
have comforted them in the retrospect of God's deal- 
ings with them in the past, but I greatly fear that I 
may have seemed almost unintelligible to some of the 
younger portion of my audience. Still, even to them 1 
have only to say that if they do not comprehend my 
meaning now they will by and by, and therefore I 
request them to treasure up the remembrance of my 
words for their future benefit. Many years ago, while 
I was seeking a holiday, and travelling on one of the 
English railways — that beautiful line that leads along 
the banks of the Wye — I came to a junction at which 
the train was divided. I had in the carriage with me 
some frolicsome young fellows who were off for their 
vacation, and full of mischief. As we stood at the 
station, a porter came along who went on the top of 
the carriage and thrust a lighted lamp through an 
opening in the roof. When he came down, one of my 
irrepressible neighbors shouted out to him, " Hallo ! 
old boy ! have you put in that to let us see the sun- 
light ? " for it was high noon. Without saying a word, 
the porter looked at the youth with a grim smile and 
passed on. A short time after we resumed our jour- 
ney, and the presence of the lamp above us, as well 
as the pleasantry that had been occasioned by its in- 
sertion, had been forgotten, when the engine whistled 
and we went thundering into a long, dark, dreary tun- 
nel, and as we sat there, looking at each other in the 
Rembrandtlike light which the lamp shone down 



374 



EMPTIED FROM VESSEL TO VESSEL. 



upon us, we were all glad of its presence. To-day I 
have hung for you a light in the roof of the carriage. 
Such a thing may seem now to be superfluous. So 
long as you are travelling through sunshine and in the 
open country, you may not be conscious of its pres- 
ence. But wait a little ! and when your course lies 
through some dismal and "eerie" tunnel, its light will 
cheer you, and you will bless God for the comfort it 
imparts. You will not go far before something comes 
in God's providence to "empty you from vessel to 
vessel," and when it comes, you may perhaps remem- 
ber Moab, and thank God that he has not left you to 
"settle on your lees." 



SOWING AND REAPING. 



John iv. 36-38. — "And he that reapeth receiveth wages, and 
gathereth fruit unto life eternal ; that both he that soweth and he 
that reapeth may rejoice together. And herein is that saying true, 
One soweth, and another reapeth. I sent you to reap that whereon 
ye bestowed no labor : other men labored, and ye are entered into 
their labors." 

To understand the general law which these words 
enunciate we must first attend to the particular in- 
stance to which it is here applied. At noontide on a 
bright eastern day the disciples had left their Master 
sitting alone and weary on the well of Jacob. They 
had gone into the city to buy food, and now, some 
considerable time later, they had returned with the 
necessary supplies. But they did not know that, in 
the interval, he had, in a most remarkable conversa- 
tion, planted the good seed of the Word in the heart 
of - a woman — of no very good reputation either — who 
had come out for such a common purpose as to draw 
water ; and so when, in answer to their pressing en- 
treaty to partake of some of the food which they had 
brought, he said, " I have meat to eat which ye know 
not of," they were completely taken aback. Lacking 
the spiritual perception to see that he referred not to 
material bread, they said among themselves, "Hath 
any man brought him aught to eat ? " but he imme- 
diately set them right by declaring that his "meat 
was to do the will of him that sent him, and to finish 
his work," and proceeded to invite them to share with 
him that rich repast. His words may be thus freely 

375 



376 



SOWING AND HEAPING. 



paraphrased : " When the husbandman has sown his 
seed, he is in the habit of saying, ' Now after four 
months we shall have a harvest,' and these words have 
come to be proverbial in the land, so that when one is 
impatient of results men are ready with the remark, 
' There are four months to the harvest.' But lift up 
your eyes and see the hurrying multitude coming 
over the fields from the city. In them behold a 
crop ready for your sickles, a crop by the reaping 
of which you will gather fruit unto life eternal, and 
receive wages for yourselves. That is a harvest which 
has not required months for its development, for I 
have sown the seed from which it has sprung in the 
brief interval of your absence, and you the reapers, 
and I the sower, will rejoice together in its ingathering. 
Thus we have again an exemplification of the proverb, 
* One soweth and another reapeth ; ' for you have done 
nothing to bring about the state of things which here 
confronts you, but are entering into the fruitage of the 
labor in which, while you were gone, I was engaged — 
an emblem this of your work as a whole in the minis- 
try to which I have called you. Do not forget it, for, 
rightly considered, it may be full of instruction to you 
in your after lives. "When you are sowers, it may teach 
you not to begrudge to others the joy of reaping the 
results of your toil ; and when you are reapers, it may 
admonish you not to arrogate to yourselves all the joy 
and honors of the harvest, for in the great ingathering 
at last, even as here to-day, he that soweth and he 
that reapeth shall rejoice together." 

But, in thus appropriating and applying the common 
proverb, "One soweth and another reapeth," the Lord 
widens its range, and takes away from it the sadness 
and almost cynicalness which in the mouths of many 
it expresses. For, as generally used among men, it sug- 



SOWING AND REAPING. 



377 



gests the idea that the rewards of labor often fall to 
those who have had no hand in earning them, while 
they who have borne the burden arid the heat of the 
day go apparently unremunerated. The profits of an 
invention are very frequently made by others than the 
plodding philosopher whose ingenuity devised it ; and 
it is too true that those who have been the greatest 
benefactors of their race have been supplanted as 
regards celebrity and emolument by inferior men. 
There have been many in history who have had to say 
with Leicester when, writing from the Netherlands, he 
plaintively moralizes after this fashion, "But so is the 
hap of some, that all they do is nothing, and others 
that do nothing do all, and have all the thanks." * And 
in the estimation of most people, few calamities can be 
worse than that which Job wished might come upon 
himself, if he were as bad as his friends represented 
him to be, when he used this imprecation, "If any 
blot hath cleaved to mine hands, then let me sow, and 
let another eat." But however true that view of the 
case might seem to be when merely present and tem- 
poral interests are considered, the Saviour here gives 
his followers to understand that, so far as moral and 
spiritual things are concerned — and when we take 
human history as a whole into the account, much 
more when we include eternity as well as time in our 
calculation — no true sower will ever be deprived of 
his share of the harvest; for at the last, "He that sow- 
eth and he that reapeth shall rejoice together." Thus 
he widens our view that he may rectify our impres- 
sions ; he corrects the selfishness of the individual by 
fixing his thoughts on the welfare of humanity at large ; 
and he brings in the rewards of eternity to counterbal- 



* Jacox, Scripture Proverbs, p. 547. 



378 



SOWING AND REAPING. 



ance the apparent anomalies of time. It may do us 
good, therefore, to amplify a little in our meditations 
the important truths which these words of his suggest 
to us. 

Let us consider, in the first place, our relation to 
the past. It is true of every one of us that we have 
been sent to reap thai whereon we bestowed no labor. 
Every man is born into an inheritance which he had 
no hand in earning. The generation of to-day began 
where that of yesterday left off. We who live now are 
the heirs of all the ages, and have received as a patri- 
mony that aggregation of literature, religion, civiliza- 
tion, and science which has been accumulating since 
the beginning. This is one of the great features which 
distinguish the human race from the brute creation. 
The lion of to-day is precisely what the lion was three 
thousand years ago. The beavers build their dams, 
and the birds their nests, and the bees their combs 
exactly as they did ages ago. Instinct makes no prog- 
ress. But intelligence grows ; the wisdom of the past 
accumulates for men into a capital for the present, 
and the thoughts of one generation pass into and 
fructify in the next. 

Geologists tell us that through long millenniums 
this earth was in process of preparation for the dwell- 
ing-place of man. One species of vegetation after 
another came and left its deposit. One kind of ani- 
mals after another appeared and left their bones to 
petrify. Thus stratum after stratum rose, until at 
length the globe was furnished for the abode of man. 
Now just so it has been with the successive genera- 
tions of men. They have not been simply repeti- 
tions of each other, like the generations of the lower 
animals, but each as it has passed away has left some 



SOWING AND REAPING. 



379 



new stratum of knowledge, or wisdom, or experience 
to be added as its instalment to the patrimony of the 
race. Thus the child of to-day is richer in many re- 
spects than our own childhood was. The citizen of 
America in the nineteenth century is, by no labor of 
his own, but simply through his coming into the in- 
heritance of his generation, vastly better off than the 
Pilgrim Fathers were when they landed on Plymouth 
Bock, or than the subjects of King Charles were 
in the seventeenth century; and the member of the 
Christian Church in these days is on a far loftier van- 
tage ground than that of those who lived when books 
were dear and scarce, when Sunday-schools were un- 
known, or when religious liberty was not fully under- 
stood and enjoyed. 

All this is so evident that it hardly needs cor- 
roboration. Take the matter of our school-books, and 
see how much richer our literature is now than it was 
only a century ago ; so that, in very deed, 

"Young children gather as their own 
The harvest that the dead have sown." 

and the words of Dugald Stewart are receiving con- 
stant verification among us, for " the discoveries which 
in one age are confined to the studious and en- 
lightened few, become in the next the established 
creed of the learned, and in the third, form part of 
the elementary principles of education." Then what 
strides have been made in physical science since the 
time when Galileo turned his rude telescope to the 
heavens, or even since the day when Newton elabo- 
rated his law of gravitation. "What an impulse was 
given to inventiveness by him who, as a boy, first 
learned the power of steam as he heard the "birr " of 
the lid of his mother's tea-kettle on the kitchen fire. 



380 



SOWING AND EEAPING. 



We have become so used to travelling over sea in the 
steamboat, and over land in the railroad car, that we 
have almost forgotten that these are modern luxuries 
with which our boyhood, not to say the boyhood of 
our fathers, was not blessed ; and as we receive a cable 
message, transmitted to us beneath the ocean, we sel- 
dom pause to think that if the telegraph and the tele- 
phone could have been shown to our fathers as they 
are, and without the intervening stages in their devel- 
opment by which we became accustomed to the idea, 
they might have been disposed to trace them to witch- 
craft or the black art. But in the enjoyment of all 
these things, the most of us have to say that we are 
reaping that whereon we bestowed no labor ; and the 
wealthy merchant, who, in his gruff sternness, insists 
that his son shall go back and begin housekeeping on 
the same level as he himself began, forgets that, so far 
as the grandest wealth of our generation is concerned, 
it is absolutely impossible for a boy to commence 
where his father did, for he is richer in all the sur- 
roundings of his position than the youth of forty years 
ago was ; and so, in spite of paternal niggardliness, he 
stands already higher than his father did. 

But, more to our present purpose, we see the same 
increase in the patrimony of the race in religious mat- 
ters. The Church is richer to-day, by the whole mod- 
ern missionary enterprise, than she was a hundred 
years ago. She has added, in the successes of her foreign 
laborers, a new volume to Christian evidences. She 
has acquired a property in their lives, which has ele- 
vated and ennobled the standard of our home piety, 
and she has shared with them in the joy of bringing 
multitudes to Christ. What treasures again have 
been added during that time to her hymnology. It 
is precisely a hundred years since John Newton pub- 



SOWING- AND REAPING. 



381 



lished those Olney Hymns which contained so many 
of Cowper's gems. Before that time Watts, Dodd- 
ridge, Toplady, and "Wesley were the leaders in the 
sacred choir, and scarcely any other hymn-writers of 
merit had appeared. But now how their number 
has increased, so that we are richer in this depart- 
ment by the productions of Montgomery, and Lyte, 
and Bonar, and Palmer, and Elliot, and many more, 
whose verses have been the wings whereon our devo- 
tion has soared — lark-like, singing as it soared — to 
God. How much, too, has our Christian literature 
been enriched, so that it is comparatively easy for us 
now, by the aid of the help that is thus furnished, to 
get at the true meaning of the Word of God, and de- 
fend it from the assaults of its enemies. So, also, we 
are reaping what others sowed in the existence of the 
Sabbath-school, in the establishment of town missions, 
in the organization of young men's and young women's 
Christian Associations, and in the inauguration of the 
temperance movement, while a distinct advance has 
been made, through the Evangelical Alliance, in the 
cultivation between Christians of every name of that 
love which is superior to all gifts and graces. 

All these have come to us largely without our own 
exertions. We found them existing when we arrived at 
years of discretion, and, whether we confess it to our- 
selves or not, what we are these have largely made us. 
Your millionaire who has risen from the ranks struts 
about and calls himself a self-made man, prating about 
independence the while. But no man is independent 
of those who have gone before him ; and every man — I 
care not who he may be — began upon a capital of sur- 
rounding advantages which he did not earn. This is 
true in the world, and it is equally true in the Church, 
so that it catt be said to each of us by our common 



382 



SOWING AND REAPING. 



Lord and Master, " I sent yon to reap that whereon 
ye bestowed no labor." 

Bnt now let me advance, in the second place, to con- 
sider our duty to the present. We have received all 
these advantages, not to rest in them, but to improve 
them and add to them, so that we shall leave them to 
those who shall come after us, enlarged and enriched 
by some new deposit of our own. The danger of the 
youth who in early life inherits a large fortune is in 
one or other of two directions. Sometimes he is 
tempted to indolence or prodigality. He thinks, per- 
haps, that he has no need to exert himself, and then 
idleness brings other vices in its train, so that by de- 
grees his patrimony disappears, and he leaves little or 
nothing to his children. It is a common remark that 
the children of wealthy men often come to grief ; and 
in Yorkshire they have a homely proverb applying to 
such cases, to the effect that " The third generation 
comes to clogs." But even when this temptation is 
resisted, the young heir is apt to think that he must 
be simply a repetition of his father, and so he con- 
tinues in the same groove, doing the same things, after 
the same fashion, until he seems to be in the present 
a kind of living fossil of the past. 

Now, the same perils attend us in receiving the heri- 
tage of the past, and the counteractive to them is to 
be found, not simply in setting ourselves to work, but 
in setting ourselves to such work as is in harmony with 
our generation. David served his generation in unify- 
ing and extending his kingdom, and in collecting treas- 
ure for the building of the temple. But if Solomon had 
attempted to do just as his father did, there would have 
been no progress. So he took up his father's idea, 
and, in the erection of the temple, he carried it to its 



SOWING AND REAPING. 



383 



glorious fruitage. One sows, that is his peculiar de- 
partment ; another reaps, that is what is demanded of 
him. Franklin went a certain length in the investiga- 
tion of electricity. But his successors were not con- 
tent either to rest in what he did, or to continue doing 
again what he had done so well, but they devel- 
oped his ideas ; and so, through Henry and Morse and 
Wheatstone and Thompson and Bell and Edison, we 
have passed from the lightning-conductor to the sub- 
marine cable and the telephone. In like manner, the 
literature of the present is not a mere reproduction of 
that of the past — it is rather an outgrowth from it. 

And the theology and Church life of to-day are dis- 
tinctive of to-day. Each age has to meet its own prob- 
lems for itself, and seek their solution by its own im- 
provement on the advantages of the past. Thus it 
happens that, without giving up or drifting from those 
great central truths which are perennial, we have to- 
day our own way of presenting and applying these 
truths ; and the men who were the leaders of a former 
generation would be barely listened to in this. No 
doubt, if these men were living now, they would be 
among the first to take in the new situation, and would 
become as prominent in this age as they were in their 
own. But what I mean is, that if they were to reap- 
pear with their old modes of speech and thought, they 
would seem as antiquated in our eyes as the dress of 
their era would to modern taste. So, while it would 
be pernicious if we were to rest on our oars and sink 
into lethargy over the blessings which we have in- 
herited, it would not be wholesome, either, if we were 
simply to seek to reproduce the past. What we have 
to do is to apply the perennial principles of the Scrip- 
tures, as enforced by the experience of history, to the 
ever-changing necessities of the times. Thus we shall 



384 



SOWING AND EEAPING. 



be kept from stereotyping the past, and we shall be- 
gin to understand what the poet means when he says 
that 

" God fulfils himself in many ways, 
Lest one good custom should corrupt the world." 

There was a time in the history of the Jewish nation 
when there was need for a call to special attention to 
the outward services of worship ; and the men who 
made that call were indeed the earnest reformers of 
their age. But their successors, unmindful of the 
principle on which I have been insisting, simply con- 
tented themselves with repeating them, and so Phari- 
seeism was developed. That which was a reality in the 
former became a form in the latter. What in the one 
class was a voice became in the other a mere echo, 
until at length the Saviour came and compared them 
to whited sepulchres, which were beautiful to external 
appearance, but within full of dead men's bones. Now, 
there is always this same danger in our use of the 
legacy which we have received from our fathers. We 
are called not to hoard that legacy, but to trade with 
it in the markets of the present, and to improve it by 
carrying out the principles rather than repeating the 
actions of our ancestors. The Puritans in their day 
did a magnificent service ; but must the type of char- 
acter which was so useful then be made the model for 
all times ? If that were to be attempted, we should 
certainly, while copying them externally, be recreant 
to their principles ; for what they contended for was 
liberty, and what they resisted was the prescription of 
an ironclad uniformity. I take that example the more 
readily, because I have almost unbounded admiration 
for the Puritans, and because I believe that the prin- 
ciples by which they were animated were founded on 
the Word of God, 



SOWING AND HEAPING. 



385 



You see, then, to what my argument is tending. 
We owe it to the present that we take the legacy of 
the past, and apply its accumulation of wisdom, expe- 
rience, and advantage to the exigencies of the days 
that are passing over us. Not to reproduce the past, 
but to develop all that is good, and noble, and useful 
in it to results of yet greater service to humanity than 
our fathers rendered — that is the duty of the hour. 
In the nation, let us apply to the questions of the day 
the same principles of justice, honesty, and statesman- 
ship as those which actuated the founders of our 
republic, and let us seek to manifest the same pub- 
lic spirit and disinterestedness as most of them dis- 
played, so that we may carry the country up to some- 
thing higher than they had ever conceived. And in 
the Church, let us be always more forward to apply 
the lessons of the past than to quote its precedents. 
The motto of God's people is ever " Forward," and 
we are not to be jealous of new enterprises, which are 
only the application of old principles to new circum- 
stances. The moment you attempt to stereotype the 
manifestation of spiritual life you petrify the life it- 
self. Therefore, in paying the debt which you owe 
to those who shall come after you, see to it that you 
guard against a mere external copy of the past, as 
well as against an entire slighting of its advantages. 
Let your lives be spent in the adaptation of the 
wealth of the ages to the necessities of the new day- 
Joshua was not the mere repetition of Moses, nor 
Elisha of Elijah ; and yet each took of the fruitage of 
his predecessor, and scattered that in the furrows of 
his own time. 

But now, lastly, let us look at our joy in the future. 
" He that soweth and he that reapeth shall rejoice to- 
17 



386 



SOWING AND EEAPING. 



gether." It is here, as I have hinted in the outset 
of my remarks, that Christ's teaching transcends the 
proverbial philosophy of the world. The men of the 
earth speak only of the earth. Their thoughts and 
aims are bounded by the horizon of the world and 
this visible life, and so when a brave sower dies before 
he has reaped the fruit of his endeavors, they call it 
loss, misfortune, almost injustice. But Jesus takes in 
eternity, and this — at least so far as spiritual sowing 
and reaping are concerned — gives all the workers alike 
a share in the reward. For when the Christian sower 
dies he does not pass into a region where he can have 

"No share in all that's clone 
Beneath the circuit of the sun." 

On the contrary, he enters then into the presence of 
the great Sower who is also the Lord of the Harvest, 
and as each new reaper comes " bringing his sheaves 
with him," he has his proper meed of joy and honor, 
for so much of his labor as went to the production of 
those sheaves. The reaper has a reward for his reap- 
ing ; but the sower, too, is blessed for his ploughing, 
and for his forethought and effort in the scattering of 
the seed. For, as one has admirably said, in com- 
menting on this passage, "The blessed issue of the 
whole ingathering is the interest alike of sower and 
reaper ; it is no more the fruit of the last operation than 
of the first ; and just as there can be no reaping with- 
out previous sowing, so those servants of Christ, to 
whom is assigned the pleasant task of merely reaping 
the spiritual harvest, have no work to do and no joy 
to taste that has not been prepared to their hand by 
the toilsome and often thankless work of their prede- 
cessors in the field. The joy, therefore, of the great 
harvest-home will be the common joy of all who have 



SOWING AND REAPING. 



387 



taken any part in the work from the first operation to 
the last." * Thus in the end, and through eternity, both 
sower and reaper haye their own reward, and both re- 
joice together. 

There were reformers before the Keformation, with- 
out whom Luther's work had not been performed, and 
in the harvest time at last they shall be honored as 
really as he. William Tyndale was the pioneer who 
prepared the way for the making of our present ver- 
sion of the Holy Scriptures, yea, in the antique indi- 
viduality of its style that translation is more his than 
it is that of any other man. So he has — shall I call 
it ? — a royalty of reward accruing to him from all the 
triumphs which this book has won. When he died at 
the stake at Yilvorde it might have seemed that he had 
been entirely unrequited, and the late honors which 
have been heaped upon his name do not pass to him 
within the veil. But whither earthly trophies and 
memorials cannot enter, redeemed souls are continu- 
ally going, and of these all who have used the English 
tongue here below shall add new joy to the happiness of 
the great reformer. But the same will be true of every 
faithful one who, while he lived on earth, sought, David- 
like, to serve his generation by the will of God. 

How much is there in all this, my brethren, to cheer 
the desponding laborer in the service of his Lord ! 
Often he may be inclined to cry, " Who hath believed 
our report?" but earnestness and self-sacrifice in the 
work of Christ will be always honored, no matter what 
may seem to be the immediate result. If the issue 
appear to be successful, the reward will be given not 
for the success, but for the labor ; while if it appear 
to be unsuccessful, the labor will still be acknow- 



* Dr. David Brown, Commentary in loco. 



388 



SOWING AND HEAPING. 



ledged, and the success too will come, it may be 
" after many days." Livingstone laid down his life in 
the desert of Africa, ha^ ing accomplished little direct 
good for those whom he met there. But he has stimu- 
lated others to send missionary brethren to the very 
heart of that dark continent ; and in all the after 
results of the preaching of the gospel there he will 
have, at the great harvest-home, as true a joy and as 
real a share as any one of those who were actively en- 
gaged in the work. Yea, though a man have been di- 
rectly instrumental in bringing only one soul to Jesus, 
yet in the after labors and successes of that soul he 
will have an interest. So let none of us be despond- 
ing. The simplest and commonest service will not be 
forgotten at the last ; and the mother of the great 
preacher, on whose lips thronging multitudes hang, 
and from whom they receive strength and inspiration, 
will be honored by all these at last, for the faithful, 
loving example which first led her son to the Lord, 
and then to the consecration of his life to the ministry 
of the gospel. 

But, viewed from the other side, this truth is well 
calculated to keep us humble in our work. The credit 
of our success is never all due to ourselves. Of course 
God always gives the increase ; but what I mean now 
is, that the planting of Paul may have had as much to 
do with results as had the watering of Apollos, even 
although it may not have had so much popular accept- 
ance at the time. It becomes us always to remember, 
therefore, that in tracing results to their source, we 
must go back to influences that were at work before we 
came upon the scene. I knew a class of young women 
some time ago whose teacher was obliged, on the score 
of health, to give up his labors among them. They 
obtained another teacher, and during the first few 



SOWING AND REAPING. 



389 



months of his work, no fewer than eight of them 
became decided Christians and enrolled themselves 
among the members of the church. Of course the 
reaper was glad. He was receiving the best wages one 
can obtain. But was all the joy his ? Was nothing 
of this result due to that former sower who for years 
had been instructing them ? Equally, of course, we 
answer that much of it was to be traced to him, and 
in the end they will share the reward together. Some 
ten years ago I was privileged to be present at the 
opening of a new church in the first year of the pastor- 
ate of a new minister in one of the large manufacturing 
towns of Lancashire, England. There was an immense 
congregation, and prominent among the throng I recog- 
nized a number of noble and intelligent young people 
who had been trained in the old church by the old 
minister. For eight-and-thirty years he had toiled in 
that field. He had bravely battled with difficulties 
which would have daunted a less ardent breast. He 
had seen many brought to Jesus by his efforts. He 
had trained many from childhood to manhood and 
womanhood in Christian character ; he had laid with 
his own hands the foundation stone of that new build- 
ing ; he had largely, by his own energy and liberality, 
secured its erection ; but he was not there to see it 
opened, for he had been called away suddenly to glory, 
and another had been installed in his place. Yet who 
does not see that in such circumstances the larger 
share of the honor was his, and that in the final har- 
vest the larger share of the joy, too, will be his ? 
Nor, in this connection, can I forget the name of him* 

* This discourse was preached only a few days after the announce- 
ment of the death of the Rev. Jos. P. Thompson, DD., LL.D., former 
pastor of the Broadway Tabernacle, who expired at Berlin on the 
morning of the 20th September, 1879. 



390 



SOWING AND EEAPINGr. 



so dear to many of yon, who, for seven-and-twenty 
years, was the honored and useful pastor of this church. 
Indeed, I know that you have already anticipated me 
in such an application of the principle which I have 
been enforcing. Truly, if ever a man could be said to 
be sent " to reap that whereon he bestowed no labor," 
I was that man when I was sent hither. I had not 
even seen a single member of the church, far less had 
any hand in helping it up to the condition which it had 
then attained. But another had been laboring faith- 
fully. Just about the time when I went to the Glasgow 
University, with as little idea of ever coming to America 
as I have now of going to the North Pole, Dr. Thompson 
came to this city. For twelve years he wrought with 
diligence in that old Tabernacle, which was in those 
days the rallying-place for all earnest spirits that 
sought to advance liberty or religion. Then in 1857, 
while I was engaged in building a church in Liverpool, 
he led you up to the site on which we are now assem- 
bled, and encouraged you to rear this house. Here, 
too, for fourteen years he labored, gathering to himself, 
through a peculiarly trying time, the respect and con- 
fidence of the community, until he came to be honored 
as a leader and beloved as a friend. And when he left 
his native land, and came as your advocate to beseech 
me to accept your call, there was at once a noble 
satisfaction and a deep pathos in his entreaty that 
I would enter upon his labors. When I came hither 
I found that I owed it largely to him that such a 
building as this was in existence ; that I was mainly 
indebted to him for the training of the people of 
whom I was to be the pastor ; and especially that I 
was under obligation to him, for the fact that the 
minister of the Broadway Tabernacle was expected 
to be a man of broad intelligence, liberal sympathies, 



SOWING AND EEAPINGr. 



391 



earnest thoughtfulness, and Christian public spirit. 
He had made this pulpit a place of influence, and to 
all the advantages and responsibilities of that place 
I had become the heir. 

Surely, then, if God has given me any success here, 
I must trace the sources of that, in many respects, 
back to him ; and to-day, as I think of him as in the 
presence of the Master whom he loved and served, 
I delight to make public this tribute of that indebted- 
ness to him, which my heart has felt since the first 
day I preached from this pulpit. I know he rejoiced 
in my work, and in my acceptance with you. He 
knew, too, how greatly I held him in honor for his 
work's sake ; and though I met him only once on the 
earth, we two — he and I — will have special ties bind- 
ing us to each other in heaven, as we commune there 
of our life-work on earth. 

" For the harvest-home we'll keep, 

And the summer of life we'll share, 
As he that sowed and I that reaped 
Rejoice together there." 

So let us be quickened by these thoughts, each to do 
his proper work, and instead of shuddering at the ex- 
pectation of the end, let us rather exult in the pros- 
pect of that day when, from his own corner of the 
field, each now-tearful sower shall " come again with 
rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him." 



THE END. 



in* 



OCT 23 1907 



LIBRARY OF 



